Utter Chaos
by Namimakura
Summary: [On the bed, Hitsugaya let loose fresh screams of tormented dreams.]  [An odd chill swept down her spine as she glanced at her former best friend.  What was happening to him?]  And with that, only the chaos is left.  Is there anything left to find?
1. Dreams of Reality

IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: Actually, first off, this story is not my priority... my other story is the priority and as such, will be updated consistently... this story will be updated according to time and inspiration... that being said, there are some things i need to say about this story. I promise violence. i promise unfair fights, beatings, some fair fights, but mostly not... i promise angst, depression, shouting and most of all, confused suffering. actually, it's less like a promise and more like a warning... basically for those of you on the lookout for lovely stories, this is not one of them... just so you know.

anybody still here? well, for anybody who is, yes, this is indeed a hitsuhina story... the only real piece of info left to impart to you is this... I know it won't make sense... this is fact... actually, i did it on purpose... so if you CAN figure it out... then either you're wrong, super smart, or i'm not doing something right... ponders either way, i would LOVE to hear what you think, not only of the story itself, but what the heck you think is happening! this story actually originated because i had so many hitushina ideas... only i didn't want to have to write them all, cuz i'd never get to write anything else! then they all sort of fused into a single idea that i could no longer resist... so here i am... stupidly writing two stories... laughs well, what with christmas, maybe i'll do well with updates? anyways, reviews make me super, super happy, so if you'd like to leave me some, i'll love you forever! hope you enjoy!

"What?," Momo asked, breathing raggedly.

"I thought I was very clear Momo. We can't be friends. In fact, I refuse to do so any longer."

A couple of hours ago Momo's life had been idyllic, perfect. She had the most amazing, most wonderful, most caring boyfriend in the world. She had the most overprotective, adorable best friend a girl could ask for. She had though he'd been acting a bit strange for the past few days, but had shrugged it off as nothing. Clearly, it was not nothing, because he didn't even want to speak to her anymore! _Her best friend_…..

She started to cry. "But why? Why, Toushiro? I don't understand….," she broke off staring at him in confusion.

"Momo, Momo, don't you know?" He smiled at her, a smile she'd never seen before. It wasn't quite malicious and yet it was. It was bitter, happy, and vaguely evil all at the same time. Since when did her Toushiro smile like that? "It's because I don't share."

"What?" That answer was even more confusing than him no longer speaking to her! "Don't share what?"

He sighed in exasperation. "I don't share you, Momo. You can't play both sides this way. I don't do this fractional, almost friendship. You've chosen your boyfriend. All right, fine. But don't expect me to stay there, yipping at your ankles for extra attention and affection. The fact that you don't understand only proves I'm right."

"Toushiro, I have a boyfriend! I still spend time with you, but of course I'm going to spend more with him now! Try to be fair….. I don't want to lose our friendship, Shiro-chan. We've been friends forever."

"And now it's over." His voice hardened. "Aizen's waiting for you."

Her eyes flashed in irritation. "Why can't you at least treat him with respect? His name is Sousuke, you know."

"I'm not your friend. You have no right to tell me how to treat others. Suck it up." He flicked a barely acknowledging glance in her direction before turning away.

"Toushiro, wait! Toushiro!" He didn't turn around. She turned and ran into Sousuke's waiting arms, sobbing. "What's wrong with him Sousuke? I don't understand…," she cried.

"Shhhh, it's all right, I'm here," he whispered in a gentle voice. He rubbed her back in soothing circles, waiting for her breathing to calm into more even breaths. "Everything will be ok, I'll take care of you. I'm here for you."

The two stood there for some time, waiting through the storm of emotions. It hurt worse than a stabbing, this losing of her oldest and best friend. Once she calmed down, both of them got into his shiny black Camero. "Why's Toushiro being such a jerk anyway?," she asked idly, annoyed and still very much hurt.

"Ah, I think he just missed the way things were. Wanted to go back to how it used to be, with just the two of you, you know? Resistant to change…."

"I don't know, it always seemed like he didn't like you very much. Which didn't make any sense," she added crossly as an afterthought.

"Ah, well, I think he was jealous." He smiled apologetically. "I've been taking up too much of your time. Sorry."

"Ano, you don't have to apologize, Sousuke. It's his fault and I like spending time with you. If anything, it's my fault for not noticing." She sighed dejectedly. "Why can't we still be friends?," she dejectedly asked the open air before her.

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There was chaos everywhere. Unohana was shouting, shouting at everyone trying to regain control of the situation. Squad members rushed in every direction, trying to follow her orders before the next set of convulsions began. Then, the very worst news, in terms of timing, was yelled into the growing din.

"Unohana-taichou! Hinamori fuku-taichou has woken up! She's asking for either Aizen or Hitsugaya-taichou!"

Unohana ground her teeth together in irritation. There was no way everything could happen at once. "I don't have the time to spare for her now! Tell her that I'll get to her as soon as possible but ask that she be patient. If she refuses, go tell another captain, because I'm too busy to deal with it!"

The shinigami saluted and raced off towards the direction of the shrieking.

Unexpectedly, blood sprayed from the figure on the bed, spattering onto many of the nearby division members. Wrenching, anguished screams filled the room, deafening Unohana. She grimaced as his body arched in yards off the surface of the bed. "Somebody hold him down!," she shouted, rushing forward. "Get me more healers to cover these fresh wounds! And where's Isane?! I need her stat to help keep the initial wound stable! MOVE!" The shinigami scrambled, panicked at the thought that they might lose yet another captain.

On the bed, Hitsugaya let loose with fresh screams of tormented dreams.

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Hitsugaya glanced around him carefully. Good. No one was following him. He thought that maybe Hinamori might try to after the scene today, but apparently not. Apparently, Aizen was more than enough to satisfy her tears. But then again, he already knew that, didn't he? As bitter as the thought was, it could only be a good thing. He sighed to himself. There was just no way he could manage it all. None. He couldn't protect her like this.

Why, oh why couldn't she see the truth about Aizen? Couldn't she tell what he was?

He could. He had known from the beginning. From the first time he had seen the man, he had known oh so well what he was. Aizen was the tallest order of scum. But he had also known that Hinamori would never believe him without proof and he had none. Still, he had no time to save her now. Not when he could barely save himself.

At first, it had been the issues with Matsumoto. She had needed his constant time and attention and he'd been willing to oblige-temporarily. Now that she had her feet on the ground, and he had personal problems to deal with! Hinamori would have to wait.

He looked carefully up and down the street. No car in sight. Good. No one was home yet. He slipped in through the back door in utter silence. No point in taking chances.

A sudden crash resounded in the house. He froze. _The car was in the shop._

He was screwed.

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Momo went to school the next day exhausted by the previous days events. She'd been on the verge of tears all night, often crying into Sousuke's shoulder. Luckily, her mom had been understanding and let him stay much later than usual to help her cope. She had no idea how she was going to cope through classes without talking to her best friend. She had considered skipping school, but that was the coward's way out. And Momo Hinamori never, ever acted that weak. So she plucked up her courage and went anyway, even knowing how much it would suck. After all, they had all their classes together. And Sousuke wasn't in their class, so she wouldn't see him at all except for lunch and after school. She twitched at the thought.

She walked into the classroom, not daring to steal a look at Toushiro, knowing she would cry if she did. Instead, she went straight over to sit with Rukia, Orihime and Rangiku. Rukia looked up at her, surprised.

"Hi everybody," Hinamori inserted quickly, hoping to forestall the obvious questions.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, but why aren't you talking to Toushiro?," Rukia queried in confusion.

"Oh, no reason in particular," she answered in an attempt at a casual response at which she failed miserably. What surprised her was the odd look Rangiku was giving her.

"What's wrong?," Orihime asked in sudden concern. "Hinamori-san?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong," Rangiku started viciously. "Hinamori spends all her time with her precious boyfriend. Just because you meet some guy doesn't mean you dump your friends. Especially your_best _friends." She stood up haughtily and went over to sit with Toushiro.

Momo was shocked. She had always thought Rangiku was so nice! Why would she all of a sudden treat her this way! It had nothing to do with her! Unconscious tears pricked the corners of her eyes unbidden. She just couldn't stop staring at Toushiro talking to Rangiku. Why wouldn't he talk to her? Why did he have to be so demanding? Friendship shouldn't be so conditional. Furiously, she wiped the tears away. _Don't cry wear they can see…_

"What was that about?," Rukia said rudely in Rangiku's direction. "What's her problem? Don't worry, we're here for you Hinamori-san."

"Yes, we're here for you," Orihime interjected intently.

Momo looked back to her other two friends, fresh tears starting at their loyalty. "Thank you so much, Kuchiki-san, Inoue-san."

"What happened anyway?," Rukia asked her curiously.

Momo sniffled. "I don't know exactly. Only Toushiro told me yesterday that we couldn't be friends anymore. I didn't understand why." She struggled desperately not to cry again. "I just don't get it! Why can't I be friends with him and still have a boyfriend? He doesn't make any sense."

Rukia leaned forward conspiratorially. "I bet I know, Hinamori-san. He's jealous of the time you spend with Aizen-kun. Maybe he likes you?"

"No, no, that can't be it." She waved off that answer easily. "If that were the case, he would have tried something long before I met Sousuke. No, we've always just been really close friends."

"Maybe he just didn't realize how he felt until now?," suggested Orihime.

Momo had started shaking her head before Orihime had finished speaking. "I don't know. I just don't see it happening. Not to Toushiro anyway." She smiled at the idea of him liking _anybody_. It was the kind of thing that just didn't suit his personality. At that moment, the teacher came into the classroom and the three of them turned forward to take notes.

All the same, Momo couldn't help but feel that something very strange was going on. An odd chill swept down her spine as she glanced at her former best friend. _What was happening to him? _

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Hitsugaya had made certain to select long-sleeved garments before leaving his room that morning. There was no way anyone was seeing the evidence. He would show no one. He couldn't let them find out. Even if they did, they wouldn't know what it meant. He tried to comfort himself with that knowledge.

He arrived at his destination in record time, sliding easily into his waiting seat. He speculated briefly on what Hinamori's reaction towards him would be, before pushing her out of his mind. He couldn't afford to take the time to think of her now. Speak of the devil. She strolled easily into the room, determinedly not looking in his direction at all. Fool. That was the most obvious sign of all that she was affected by him. A couple of minutes later, Matsumoto joined him. Unusual.

It didn't matter though. Nothing mattered now. Nothing but surviving, a difficult enough task given his precarious situation. He shook it off. Best not to think about it, especially with others here. He couldn't afford to get distracted. Not at all. He sighed. Why did he even bother trying to endure such a trivial atmosphere? For no clear reason apparently. Perhaps he was a masochist at heart. And a whole day ahead to suffer. Joy.

He looked over to glance at Hinamori. Still a leaky faucet. He sighed again. He hated making her cry. But the alternatives were far, far worse. He shuddered. Never, ever would allow such a thing to happen. He turned to face forward, deciding to ignore her. For now.

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The darkness pressed in around him. It suffocated him, stifled him, terrified him. And yet, despite his fear, the dark was his greatest ally. It was his comfort, his constant through the uncertainty. He knew what it was like to see, but he knew now what it was like not to see. She no longer held the advantage here.

Sure, she was bigger, stronger, smarter, more experienced. But for him this darkness was a second home. He didn't need to see to understand it and she did. And that was enough. Still, it didn't stop the pain.

The pain was also his suffocating companion, always hurting, always aching. It ate him, biting, sawing until he cried out, until he begged for a mercy that never came. It slithered in and around, knotting his muscles and contorting his limbs.

He had scars everywhere. They covered his chest, his legs, his shoulders. They were from the knives, the needles the swords. Oh yes, he knew his weapons. Intimately. He knew exactly how a hook could penetrate his insides, grasping his intestines and twisting until proper digestion was no longer possible. He knew the pain of burning fire, licking at chest. He knew the way the flames slowly devoured the fringes of skin, eating its way outward and into the bloodstream. He knew the white-hot intensity of hatred, deep under his skin that echoed and reverberated through the air around him.

He felt for the deep bruise on his cheek, taking comfort in the familiar pain. Good. He had not yet ceased to exist. Still alive. He had to stay alive.

Because if he didn't stay alive, he'd never have the chance to kill her. At that thought, his eyes could be seen glowing burnished gold in the pitch black.

He could hear the sound of the door creaking. This time, he _would_kill her.


	2. Or Reality of Dreams?

AN: Hey everybody! I actually have no idea how long it's been since the first chapter... was it only a week? O.o wow. well, don't expect them this often all the time... remember it depends on inspiration and how i'm doing on the other story... just a reminder... kay, i wanted to respond to some of the reviews i got... I know the story is very confusing everybody! for the most part, nobody seemed to know what was going on... except for cherryblossom hime. she says she does. O.o i must know... what do you think it is???? anyway, back on track... part of me wants to apologize, but honestly, evil author that i am... i meant it to be that way... so it was nice to get confirmation that i succeeded! despite how mean that makes me... sniffles s'ok though... right? i really appreciated everyone's guesses! the most common ones i got were definitely alternate reality and/or dreams... dreams is probably the closest i think... ponders but i was happy to see that no one's managed to guess yet! that means it'll still be a surprise... the most creative guess i got was that it was aizen's hypnosis! i thought that was really impressive... sounds almost better than the truth! giggles i also noticed that there was some confusion over who the "he" was in the last segment of the first chapter... that too is intentional... laughs evilly i'm so awful. i had one guess for hitsugaya and another for aizen... both very interesting... i'm not going to tell who's right, if either... because that's my evil author prerogative... though i will clarify a little for you here... there are different "plot lines" i shall call them... that i'm following... and i skip scenes from one to another and sometimes just to a different perspective... i do it inconsistently on purpose... mostly because it's supposed to be confusing... which i think i did for the symbolism... think about it... everything is chaotic and falling apart in the story, it only makes sense to mimic that in writing style... and lastly, to mimimichie, thank you for reviewing! i'm glad you enjoyed the beginning of the story and i hope you continue to read and enjoy! though i'd be very impressed if you managed to figure it out after only five chapters... that'd be nifty... all right, enough rambling from me... i hope you enjoy the chapter! and continued guesses/feedback are very welcome! dances

Blood. The blood snaked down his arm in delicately unfurling tendrils. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. He felt it so sharply. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The cold knife burying itself deep into his left shoulder took years to descend an inch. For those precious moments, the pain held itself at bay, indefinitely a delayed reaction. The crimson liquid sprayed drops into his face and onto his body, wetting his skin and staining his clothes. Not that it mattered. His clothes had long since hung in limp shreds off of his body. They were also in severe need of washing, but it wasn't as if he was given any kind of selection or decision in the matter.

Time jumpstarted back into sudden definition with him grabbing the hand holding the offending knife and pulling it forward to twist into his own grip. He kicked his opponent's ankle and heard the appreciative sound of cracking bones. The figure before him cried out in pain, but only as a reflex before wrestling her other hand onto the hilt of the knife. He wrenched out of her grasp with difficulty, turning to face the another direction and simultaneously chucking the knife into a far corner. He could hear it skittering on the metal floor, confirming its location.

It was almost amusing how quickly she leapt into action, diving in the direction of the glinting weapon. He smirked as he easily tripped her, flipped her onto her back and straddled her to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her delicate little throat.

She wasn't the _her _he wanted, but she would have to do. At this rate, it was only a matter of time.

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Unohana's brow was drenched in sweat. Her whole body was saturated with it. It had drained so much of her energy simply to maintain his status. She didn't know how much time she had until his next fit, but she definitely needed to restore both physical energy and reiatsu. She took another sip of tea as Isane-fukutaichou strode purposefully into the room.

"Unohana-taichou, Hinamori-fukutaichou is due to have her checkup with you now. She's been very tense and difficult," she added as an afterthought.

"Yes, I expected no less from her. Thank you, Isane-fukutaichou." Her voice was tired and strained. She stood and wearily headed down to the Hinamori's ward. She had a whole ward to herself now because she had pitched such a fit upon waking. All of the other patients were in serious danger due to her uncontrolled reiatsu. Unohana had been forced to take precautions.

Upon entering the room, it was easy to see that Hinamori had some rather irate complaints to make.

She sighed. With Hitsugaya-taichou in need of possibly constant attention, she had too little time to spare for the fifth division's vice-captain's issues.

"Where is Aizen-taichou?!," Hinamori shouted, voice blazing.

"Now, now Hinamori-fukutaichou," Unohana began, smiling at her in what could only be described as a deadly warning. "If you really wanted an answer to that question, I'm sure you could try a more appropriate approach, don't you think?"

Hinamori stared at her for a few moments, utterly taken aback, mouth gaping.

"I'm actually not here to answer all your questions. As it turns out, the results of Kuchiki Rukia's attempted execution have caused several severe problems within the Seireitei, which is why no one has had the time to explain anything to you. Even I don't have the time now. I'm only here for your checkup, to make sure you are healing properly. Do you understand?"

Hinamori's eyes flashed in irritation. "I'm not five, I'm perfectly capable of comprehending such a thing. So when will anyone tell me anything?"

"I don't know. Now please lay back on the bed."

Scowling, Hinamori complied.

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Momo's day had continued to be extremely trying. Both her and Toushirou had to walk to the same classes down the same hallways, but he just passed her by without even looking at her. She couldn't even pay strict attention in class and ended up doodling over her previous notes instead of listening to the teacher. She tried to make the classes go faster by counting down in five-minute increments. All she managed to accomplish was to become extremely aware of the time. But honestly, she couldn't wait for this horrible ordeal to be over (otherwise known as school) so that she could go be with Sousuke and forget all the terrible things in life. And since when were Rangiku and Toushirou such good friends?

That was the part she understood least of all. How easily and completely she had been replaced by this other girl she hadn't even known was that close to him! It made her twitch to just think about it. But still, she had somehow managed to not cry for the rest of the periods for which she was very grateful. Part of her wanted him to not have to worry about her as she was sure he was doing. No, that didn't make sense. He didn't want to be friends with her. But did that mean that he really didn't care anymore? At all? She couldn't understand that either. The whole situation had her thoroughly confused.

Because there was no way that Toushirou had a crush on her! It simply wasn't possible. She knew him and knew he just didn't think that way. She had always had the feeling that he didn't like Sousuke, but she didn't know why. He was always such a perfect gentleman towards everyone. What fault could Toushirou find? She gnawed on her lower lip in concentration. Maybe she was on the wrong track. Maybe that was all just to throw her off.

Yes, that definitely sounded more like Toushirou. She smiled unconsciously to herself. She was making progress now. So what would be another reason for him to ignore her? Now she was stuck again. She sighed disappointedly. There were definitely no obvious reasons….

"Hey, earth to Momo," Rukia laughed. "Class is over. Come on, time for PE."

Momo groaned. Oh how she hated the vile class. "Hey Rukia. What reasons might Toushirou-kun have for not speaking to me?," she asked thoughtfully.

Rukia raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you mean other than being terribly jealous of your boyfriend?"

"Yes, other than that," she remarked slightly irritably. "I'm catching a blank. There must be a reason, only I can't think of it."

Rukia sobered a little. "Does it even matter, Momo? I mean, not to be harsh, but there's no real hope for the two of you to become friends again, is there?"

"I'll find some. I'll make it up if I have to," she answered fiercely.

Rukia gave a startled laugh at her immediate reply. She leaned over and gave her a quick hug. "This is why we love you Momo. You never give up."

Momo blushed. "Stop it, I give up on lots of stuff. Besides, you guys don't either."

"Yeah, yeah, modest too." Rukia laughed again.

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"Look, I really, REALLY don't feel well today. I would really appreciate it if you would let me sit out of class today. I'm willing to make it up later, I just really don't feel well today."

"If you don't feel well Hitsugaya-kun, then you ought to go to the nurse. If that's not good enough for you, you're just gonna have to dress out like every other student here. You're not getting special treatment just because you're not 'feeling well.' You look perfectly fine to me."

"I'm not asking for special treatment Sensei," he tried again, gritting his teeth. "All I ask is a chance to have one class minimal participation to be made up later. I really don't feel well, but… well, going to the nurse is embarrassing."

"Either get over it, and I mean your fear of the nurse or your 'sickness,' or go dress down now. No exceptions. What's it gonna be Hitsugaya-kun?" The teacher's voice was flat and brooked no argument.

Muttering under his breath, Hitsugaya finally gave in and trudged off to the locker room. Crack. Failure when he really needed success. Somehow, he knew this was going to come back to bite him later.

He had no idea how soon that later would be.

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He was screaming again. Screaming as if he was dying, as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest and Unohana didn't even know whether she was being literal or figurative. Perhaps both. His back arched off the bed about three feet, shouts still ripping from his throat. The surprising part was that he had any voice left at all. All of his body twitched violently, engaging in dangerously uncontrolled spasms. He just shook, for no apparent reason at all. Somehow, this didn't even cause his voice to crack or break in any way. The sorrow in his voice was difficult to bear as was the clear pain. She had no idea what he dreamt of there, but whatever it was, it was destroying his psyche from the inside out.

Cuts broke open on his forehead again, sudden bursts of blood breaking through the recently healed skin. His hands scratched at his arms, more blood spreading, spreading. Unohana was getting panicked. There were so many to heal and so few of them had even been looked at, because Hitsugaya-Taichou required the attention of nearly everyone in the division. Many members needed to be on hand, if only for their reiatsu. Also, members were needed to watch him in case he broke out in another "fit" as they'd taken to calling them. Unohana had long since given up trying to get the blood out of her haori. If everything continued at this rate, she could conceivably run out of reiatsu before she even figured out what was wrong with him.

They never even had time to clean him between fits. All effort was directed towards reiatsu recovery. For the first time in her entire career, Unohana was forced to consider the possibility that she would need help from another division, in terms of manpower. If that happened, the fourth division would never live it down. But she would never be able to look herself in a mirror again if he died and she knew there was something she could have done, could have tried.

He was twitching again, wrestling like crazy to break free of the restraints, yelling into the air indistinguishable words filled only with his overwhelming emotion.

Soul-destroying screams filled with undiluted agony.


	3. Finding Truth in the Lies

AN: Hey everybody! waves i know, been a while since i updated this story... sweatdrops well... hopefully it'll never be quite that long again... though of course, there are not guarantees... hope you all enjoy it! i still somehow resist actually explaining anything... somehow. and of course, reviews are greatly appreciated! thank you all who have read/reviewed/alerted/faved so far! dances i don't see this as being too long a story... though still over ten chapters. anyways... enjoy!

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Hinamori found that she couldn't sleep anymore. Since she had woken, she simply didn't want to. She couldn't trust it, didn't know who might wander near. It didn't help that every time the fatigue began to be too much and she thought she might cave, she heard screams echoing from somewhere nearby. When the screams started, she would always head towards the door to find someone, anyone, to get whoever it was to shut up. Unfortunately, the screaming seemed to act as a signal. As soon as it started, all the fourth division members would mysteriously disappear. And somehow, somehow, they had managed to seal her kidou and effectively block her from escaping her boxlike prison.

It was infuriating.

She knew something was up. The way Unohana was suddenly never there-Unohana, who was always very involved with patients, especially the higher level within the respective division. Not because she disliked lower members or held any sort of prejudices against them, it was just that Unohana knew she'd see the upper members more often and so she preferred to cultivate positive relationships with them. Though Hinamori herself had been here but rarely in previous occasions, never had she heard of the patient being imprisoned this way!

There was no longer anyone to trust. She couldn't trust this strange behavior of the fourth division members. She could no longer trust sight with her eyes. Her eyes had deceived her, showed her an Aizen-Taichou she couldn't believe existed. However, much as it hurt her to think it….

She could no longer trust him either.

She had had endless time to consider the possibilities. Aizen-Taichou might have been brainwashed. Unlikely, seeing as how she knew what a powerful captain he was (yet she believed him weak enough to be killed by Ichimaru…). Or he could be evil. He could be a backstabbing traitor who had thoroughly brainwashed her into turning on her best friend in the world. But that couldn't be all true either because she had seen too much of the good inside him.

The whole conundrum had turned her mind into a bloody haze, groping in the blind darkness for any kind of hope to hold onto. She clung to her anger, to her rage, because it distracted her from the need to think. When she thought of her hate, she thought only of how she could destroy those who were bottling her. Those who were restraining her within this prison.

Hitsugaya-kun couldn't know about this. He'd never allow her to be treated this way. He'd never keep Aizen-Taichou from her. Never. He knew better.

Her eyes betrayed her weakness.

Her eyes betrayed the glimmerings of denial.

Her eyes betrayed the splintering of her mind, indicating the swallowing layers of psychosis.

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Extremely self-conscious, Hitsugaya slid uncomfortably to a cross-legged position on the gym floor, as far away from other students as possible. He knew, mentally, that the other students were taking no more notice of him than usual, but he couldn't rid himself of the obsessive nerves. No matter that they were counter-productive and utterly useless, he still couldn't wrestle away the feeling that he was more noticeable today. He should have just skipped the class altogether. He would have, only he hadn't realized the implications of gym class until he'd already been spotted by the sensei. He leaned back on his hands, attempting to appear nonchalant. He knew he was failing at it, but it couldn't stop the nervous action.

Hinamori was talking nervously with Rukia, attempting to appear as if she wasn't horribly aware of his presence. It was rather pathetic the way she kept trying. Hadn't he always told her that she was so obvious that way? Well, whatever, it didn't matter now. Actually, it worked in his favor, seeing as how he was trying to remain unobtrusive. The gym teacher announced roll call and he stood to line up with the other students. Unfortunately, this meant standing right next to Hinamori as both their last names were pretty close alphabetically.

He walked up next to her in line, trying to act normal and simultaneously ignore her.

"Hello, Toushirou-kun," Hinamori said, her voice wobbling a bit. She was glancing at him a little, trying to be polite, but not wanting to be embarrassed.

He stared at her without saying anything, ensuring he had her full and complete attention, before pointedly staring off in another direction without uttering a single word. He could practically see her expression, saddened, embarrassed, hurt and mortified. But mostly on verge of tears. He winced mentally. Somehow, he had to figure out how to do this while causing her fewer tears.

The teacher went down the line, checking to ensure that each student was present. He stopped at Hinamori.

"Momo-chan, are you all right?"

Hitsugaya swiveled his head around very quickly to get a good look at her.

"No, no, I'm fine," she muttered, pale as a ghost. She was literally swaying on her feet and her eyes were half open.

"Hitsugaya-kun, you and Momo-chan are good friends, why don't you take her down to the nurse?"

Cursing himself for handling this so badly, he nodded curtly and took her arm, ensuring that she wouldn't fall. Once out in the hallway, Hinamori stopped a moment.

"Can we sit down for a bit? I really need to sit." She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, an acknowledgement of how hot she was.

Worriedly, Hitsugaya nodded his agreement.

After sitting down, she narrowed her eyes at him. "See, this is what I'm talking about Toushirou-san. How are we not friends when you are still so obviously concerned for me?"

He stared at her. _Wait a second, had she just tricked him? No way!_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Today the darkness was a snake. A hungry snake, coiling constantly and always ready to strike. All he had to do was merge with it. Become one with its anger and its tense readiness for battle.

He sat cross-legged in the corner he knew was farthest from the door, despite being unable to see the door. She said that if he was good today, he would be allowed to go outside tomorrow. He had behaved excellently lately, she said. Easily killed those she'd set against him and with only surface wounds. Much as he hated her, he was still glowing with pride. She never said anything that wasn't true, especially when it came to expertise.

It was true that seeing the sun would ruin his fights for the next few days, but it was always worth it. There was something to be said for the beauty of colors. Still, it broke his link with the darkness. After leaving, he always had to work hard to build the merge back up. So today, he was hoping to keep that bond high.

After all, the darkness was his only comfort. It was his only advantage over her.

The darkness slithered around him, pleased at his dependence. He was safe within it. For now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Momo had decided to try something ridiculous. She wanted to see if she could trick Toushirou into proving he cared about her. Then, once she'd cornered him, she'd demand to know the real reason behind him not wanting to be friends! At the very least, it might throw him off and distract him into revealing something! It couldn't hurt to try.

So far, it had been going well. Toushirou himself had taught her how to pretend things to protect herself should she ever need to. He was always doing silly things like that. Worrying about her physical safety when she was in a safe neighborhood surrounded by strong men. When she'd laughed though, Toushirou had given her that disappointed look she hated. So she'd given in and tried to learn it. Ironically, that was going to help her against him now. She _had_been surprised at how easily everyone was fooled though. Perhaps she was just that gifted?

She sat down on a bench, pretending continuing fatigue and Toushirou sat down next to her, obvious worry written all over his face. "See, this is what I'm talking about Toushirou-san. How are we not friends when you are still so obviously concerned for me?"

The look on his face was positively priceless. She would have jumped up and down for joy if it wouldn't have ruined the moment. He was shocked that she'd tricked him and speechless to deny it.

He quickly looked away, discomfited and blushing slightly. "Just because we're not friends doesn't mean I can't be concerned when someone's white as a sheet. It could have been the girl on the other side of you just as easily, even though I don't even know her name."

Momo rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure Toushirou-san. I buy that. Not." She grasped his hands for emphasis. "What's so wrong with staying friends?"

He backed up on the bench, trying to pull his wrists out of her grip. "Let me go," he said, his voice slightly breathless. She looked down at his arms involuntarily.

"What for?" And gasped. "Toushirou! What happened to your arms?!"

For both arms were covered with thin, white, spidery scars, crisscrossing all the way up to his elbow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was coughing violently, blood splattering all over the face of the healer bent directly over him. His whole back arched and seized, lifting sheer feet off the bed as the healer desperately attempted to keep him flat on the mattress.

"Hold him steady!," Unohana shouted. "We can't heal these wounds fast enough! He's losing too much blood!"

The wound inflicted by Aizen reopened for about the twentieth time since she'd initially sealed it. Hitsugaya's constant movement prevented both easy treatment and any kind of consistent care for the older wounds.

"Bring in more bandages!" Unohana was desperate for anything that might help them help him. The whole situation was only getting worse. Most of the crew were half-deaf between Hitsugaya's screams and Unohana's shouted orders.

Two more spontaneous gashes burst open on his thighs, utterly new and freshly cut.

Somehow, she absolutely _had _to determine where these cuts were originating from! Why the screaming? What was he seeing? And more importantly, why was he seeing it? All questions to which she had no answers. And the answers were the only source of curing him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Momo stared at Toushirou's face, her grip on his wrists tightening to vise-like. "Toushirou, what happened to your arms?"

Parts of them were still raw, as if rubbed by a knife that wasn't quite sharp enough. Parts were scabbed.

"Nothing, all right? Nothing's wrong with me. They're…. they're just birthmarks."

"Now I know you're lying. Toushirou, tell me the truth, why would you do this?" Tears glistened in the corners of her eyelids. "What's wrong? Is it really because I haven't been there for you? I'm so sorry Toushirou… Please, let me help. Please?" She could barely hold back from shedding her tears.

Toushirou's face softened as he looked at her scared and worried face. "I'm fine. Honest. These are all old."

"Not all of them are!," she cried. "Why won't you just let me help?!"

"Listen to me, Momo. You can't help me. And even if you could, I wouldn't want you to. Besides, you have nothing to do with this." His eyes hardened again. "Now, stay away from me. I don't want to have to keep enduring your pathetic attempts to unravel our lack of friendship. It's over, okay? And that _is _your fault. So quit talking to me."

And with that, he stood up and walked off, leaving a crying Momo on the bench behind him.


	4. Or Lies in the Truth?

AN: hey everybody! been a while, eh? well, i've heard that my story's a bit confusing... yeah, i know, this is coming as a shock to most of you, right? giggles... but seriously, i've had a request to help clarify the sections to help understand better. So, i've decided to include names at the beginning of each one... hopefully that'll help a bit... also, i have a hint thing i'm prepared to give. but i don't want to tell everyone if they don't want to know! so leave a note in a review (if you want to of course, totally up to you, right?) and i'll just reply! or something. anyway, hope you enjoy this installment!! loves you's all and hope to see them luverly reviews!

_.:Momo:._

Momo was inconsolable for the rest of the day. It couldn't be! No, it definitely couldn't. Not her Toushirou. He wasn't! He couldn't! She moaned to herself, desperate to deny what must be reality. No! No!

She simply could not accept Toushirou wanting to die. It wasn't fair! He was such a wonderful person with so many gifts and good qualities. Why would he want to hurt himself that way? It just didn't make any sense to her.

Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she _had _been neglecting him. What if it was? Fresh tears started in her eyes. Her fault that her best friend was cutting himself, was _hurting _himself, had _been _hurting himself. Had she really been choosing Sousuke over Toushirou that much? What if she had? What should she do?

It seemed as if everything she'd known about the world was suddenly turned upside down with this new knowledge. Everything she'd believed was a lie. Maybe she really didn't understand Toushirou the way she thought she had.

Sousuke tried calling her multiple times. He even knocked on the door, called through the window. Momo refused to let him in and talk to him. He couldn't help her now. Especially not if it was her fault for spending so much time with him in the first place. No, she had to be strong by herself for this. She couldn't just cower here, she had to figure out how to help him.

Yes, that was right. What did she think she was doing sitting her, pitying herself? Toushirou was the one who needed her help! So what could she do?

She absentmindedly twirled a wisp of hair between her fingers and chewed on her bottom lip as she considered her options. Well, she could try an outright confrontation with him. Uncover what his issues through and get him to find help….. But she didn't have high hopes for that considering how distant he was acting towards her.

She could try tricking him. Being sneaky and cunning to try and figure it out. But if she did, she'd have to be careful, since she'd already tipped him off that she was willing and clever enough to try. And if it didn't work, she'd need a Plan B.

She didn't think going for help would work, mostly because Toushirou was something of a genius at fooling people. No one would believe her, really. And besides, even if they did, he could fake having changed or something.

First, she ought to go on recon. She needed to know the problem thoroughly before she attempted to apply a solution. She would try following him around for a while, to see what happened. Perhaps that would give her a clue as what he was up to and why exactly he was cutting himself.

Momo stood up determinedly, feeling much better now that she had a plan.

_.:Hitsugaya:._

Hitsugaya was terrified.

He was panicked.

He was bloody terrified and that was a bonafide fact.

She had found out. She had _seen_. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak, and he had no way of covering his mistake. It didn't matter now how cold he acted, how cruel he became.

He knew Momo the best and so he knew what she would do. She was on the hunt. Now she knew he was in trouble and she would dig in her heels and not let go, ever, until she knew why and had tried to "help" him.

All his hard work had been for naught. Everything he'd done. He knew he wasn't breathing properly, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.

He had made it as far as the back lot of the school before sliding down against the wall, black curling around the edges of his vision as his breathing had stepped up quite rapidly.

Somehow, _somehow_, he had to throw her off the scent. He needed to get her off track! He tried to breathe slower, to calm down so he could think rationally. He could do this. He could do this because he _had _to do this.

All he had to do was lie. A simple, easy little white lie. Let her help him. Tread the thin line between complete abandonment and safety.

He could do it.

He _had _to do it.

Now he just had to figure out how to start breathing again.

_.:Unohana:._

Ukitake had always had close ties to the fourth division. It was because he so ill for so long. He had been to so many check-ups, spent so much time being treated by Unohana that he was practically a permanent fixture. So he saved her the trouble of asking for outside help by simply volunteering his own. He knew when he was needed. He just slipped unobtrusively to a position next to her and demanded, quite quietly, that he be given a responsibility. Unohana didn't even let the relieved expression slip through her mask.

Quickly, she brought him up to date on the necessary healing kidou he would need in order to properly assist her. This way, she actually stood a chance of examining Hitsugaya-Taichou in yet another attempt to uncover what, precisely, was wrong with him.

The room, for once, was filled with a deathly silence. All the squad members were exhausted and merely sat, awaiting what they knew was eventually coming. The windows' drapes were drawn shut, allowing no outside eyes to peer in, but it wasn't enough to stop the sound.

"Now, Ukitake-Taichou, please monitor his life signs and reiatsu levels, especially if his body starts to convulse or scream. I'm going to be trying something I've developed recently to try and find out what's happening. Do you understand?"

Ukitake nodded slowly, his face utterly solemn. "What will happen to you?"

Unohana stared at him, eyes calculating and appraising the older captain. There was a rather lengthy pause before she responded. "This is dangerous, Ukitake-Taichou. Make no mistake. It should be me monitoring his life signs, not you. However, there is no one else who can do what I will try. As is often the case in a crisis, we are forced into positions that are not ideal, taking risks that may not pay off. I will need you to direct the squad members as I will be otherwise occupied. And there is no doubt in my mind that you are the best candidate. Do we understand each other?"

"What do I do if you don't snap out of it?" His voice was soft and she was certain the others hadn't heard.

"Nothing. By that point it would be too late," she answered equally softly in response. "Are you ready?"

Ukitake nodded.

"Then let's begin."

_.:Him:._

The sun!

It was as beautiful as he had remembered it. He laughed freely, the first time he had done so in months, he was certain. Grass glimmered underneath the brilliant, glowing dew. He raced alongside the very wind, laughing and smiling and tumbling over and under through the sweet, sweet grass.

There were no words for this beauty. The joy of colors, the _warmth _of the rays of sunlight and the sheer happiness it brought him.

She called out to him, asking him to come back, that he'd gone too far from her side.

In the light, out here, he couldn't even bring himself to hate her. Besides, it was better to obey now. If one disobeyed outside, one simply was never allowed back out.

It was true though, that the light hurt his eyes. He had to squint a bit and hold a hand over his eyes to block the strongest of the light. At first, the stars and blackness had been difficult to handle. He had wondered, momentarily, if he had, finally, gone blind once and for all. He would not be surprised to see it happen. He expected it to, eventually.

It was _her _fault! The sudden vehemence of the thought took over his rationality and he saw her dead in his mind, body splayed out in bloody pieces on the dewy grass.

His body was in control, though, not his mind, so he trotted docilely back to her. Time was up. The darkness was beckoning him again anyway.

Still, the vision of her bloody body was a compelling image he couldn't quite ignore. So he savored it.

_.:Hinamori:._

Hinamori was bored. She was bored of the tiny room, painted all in white and all so precisely organized.

No, that wasn't true.

It wasn't boredom.

It was irritation.

She found the little room annoying. Very annoying. Very irritating. So small, yet so pristine and perfect. Everything so amazingly, wonderfully, annoyingly perfect. For some reason, she hated perfection.

Found it incredibly nauseating.

The people weren't much better, when they bothered showing up. She was certain she wasn't getting regular meals. Absolutely positive she wasn't. There was no way.

And she deserved it! No, no, that wasn't the right attitude. She tried to backtrack, to figure out where she'd messed up her thinking. When had this become about her?

And what had happened to Aizen-Taichou? Nothing that was going on was making sense.

Where were the squad members?

Aizen-Taichou would understand. He always knew what to do. He did everything just right. He was perfect. The best captain in the whole blasted Seireitei.

Hinamori looked around the room in sudden confusion.

When had all the furniture been torn up? And by whom?

_.:Hitsugaya:._

There was blood everywhere. He couldn't stop the bleeding. Spattered droplets were scattered all over the room. The carpet was saturated with crimson stains.

Pain filled Hitsugaya's vision and he knew he was screaming. Over and over, the sounds echoed from his mouth, but he couldn't quite push himself past the pain he knew he was feeling.

Something had happened, something awful. That was why he was suffering so. His skin positively burned and if he didn't know better, he might have guessed he had cracked ribs. Well, he could see part of the one bone, but his hazed mind had deduced that was more from the depth of the cuts, not because it was out of place.

Nothing existed except his battered body. He needed to find something else, but he knew he would be unable to escape the smothering fog of anguish. So he let the agony take over and blackness followed, only moments later.

_.:Unohana:._

The problem started simply because there was no way to time the fits. Unohana had started the procedure and everything had been going according to plan.

They had hoped to be able to do it when Hitsugaya-Taichou was calm and he was. She had an extra captain in case something went wrong. The problem was, she did not know what brought on the fits. They were impossible to predict in terms of timing.

And so it was that she had been finishing the final stages of the sequence when Hitsugaya had screamed himself his way into another fit.

Of all the things she might have anticipated, she could not have guessed that she would be thrown backwards against the wall, caught in the most horrifying torture she had ever experienced.

There was so much screaming it was hard to tell where his ended and hers began.


	5. Losing Sight

AN: um... i may have given the game away in this chapter. maybe. i don't THINK anyone will get it.. but the possibility is there. ah well. had to happen eventually. and not everything's clear yet. also... somehow the scenes went and made themselves longer. not quite sure how that happened. well. this chapter rather wrote itself actually. giggles. as you can tell, seeing as how it's only been a WEEK. stares. anyway. and since when did this become an ukitake/unohana fic? is oddly confused. well, there it is. apparently it has. still, i rather like it. . many things are actually being set in motion and things are being revealed, albeit slowly. oh, and she finally speaks!! the one "he" wants to kill. yeah, didn't know that was gonna happen until she did... anyway, it was kinda cool. kay, i'm gonna stop talking now before i spoil the whole poor chapter for you. sweatdrops and runs off to hide. last thing before i go... mimimichie! let me know if you DO manage to figure it out... grins. and if you don't, i can't give you a hint unless you sign in! unless you want me to just track down your profile (not difficult, i've got the link) and message you. either way, let me know, kay? glad you're enjoying so far and hope this continues the suspense! enjoy everybody! and i love you all for your amazingly supportive reviews! you guys rock. tackles.

_.:Him:._

He was feeling oddly reckless. He knew it was stupid. He knew he would be punished, set back yet again from his next visit outside, but he couldn't help it. Seeing the sun always emboldened him, especially to the point where he could not resist at least trying.

And the days after he was reintroduced to the darkness were always horrific. As he had been blinded by the light was he now blinded by the utter dark. The blindness brought hate so deeply intense, that movement was impossible for some hours at a time. It poured through his veins in a toxin more potent than acid. Always, he was struck anew by the unfairness. That he should be locked away in a world of darkness, only to kill and sometimes eat or sleep. This was no life and he _knew _he was due something better! After seeing the sun shining on dewy grass, he knew what joy was! And he knew he deserved that ecstasy. There was no reason for her to deny him of it! None!

It was irrational. He wasn't strong enough to stop her yet. She was training him, oh yes, but he wasn't even close to her level. Especially when he was so blinded by the darkness. But the hate bleeding through his whole body would be satisfied with nothing less.

He could still the image of her body torn apart in the grass and it wanted that vision to become truth. So he would try.

He could feel the doorknob turning through the impossibly still air. The hinges creaked slightly as the door swung partially open. For a moment, there was absolute stillness. Nothing moved. Then, inch by careful inch, the door pushed slowly open. He had never had such patience. Never waited so carefully. He wasn't even breathing, just in case she might hear and identify his position.

She stepped halfway through.

He moved.

Lightning fast and the door pinched her between the edge and the doorway. Blood burst from her forehead but he was still moving. The door bounced inward once more and he pulled her arm downwards whilst simultaneously kicking the door back towards her. Her head collided with it again as his other hand came down in a slicing chop, shattering her wrist. He yanked her forward, through the doorway, by her broken wrist, but she was much taller than he was. She slid her feet forward, kicking his ankles out from under him, both of them landing on the floor-him on top of her.

"How _dare _you," she hissed, rage evident in her every nuance.

Barely taking a breath, she was already rolling on top of him, pinning him to the floor with her sheer weight. He kneed into her inner thigh as hard as he could and gave another hard yank on her wrist. She hissed again, bringing her skull down with ringing force onto his, smashing it painfully into the concrete floor. Stars swam before his eyes and he could have sworn he heard the crunch of bone.

He kneed her again and continued pulling at her broken wrist. With his free hand, he grabbed at her hair, pulling it backwards. Her free hand reached and slid easily around his wrist, grasping tightly. She twisted the whole arm out, flipping him onto his front and forcing him to relinquish the hold on her wrist.

"I will show you what pain is for this." She was laughing now, a hysterical, maniacal sound that grated on his ears. Her voice was harsh and rough. Ugly. "I won't kill you. You know I won't. But you'll wish you were." She laughed again. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll wish you were."

And that's when she pulled the delicate hook from her belt loop, smiling manically all the while.

_.:Momo:._

Momo was both frustrated and very, very nervous. She had tried to follow Toushirou that very day, but he had already left. She had gone to school the next day, hoping for better luck, only to discover that he wasn't there! Had he ditched just to avoid her? It was possible, if he was desperate enough. She tried not to worry too much (not very successfully, of course) about him actually being that desperate.

And then he hadn't come to school the day after. That's when she'd truly started to worry. What if something had happened? What if she was already too late? She'd struggled against the very idea. Maybe he was just sick. Maybe he needed the time to think. It wasn't necessarily too bad.

On the third day of his absence, panic set in. Momo honestly could not remember anything coherent about the day, only that Toushirou was not there again.

Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. There were simply too many coincidences. She had to do something. She'd let it go on too long already. She'd said she would do whatever it took, that she would help him, and she'd done nothing!

She left school, her every thought consumed with what could possibly be happening to Toushirou. She practically ran (though she couldn't honestly say) to where she knew he lived and ran up to knock on the door. She knocked and knocked and knocked.

No one answered.

"Toushirou? Toushirou, are you there? Toushirou, come to the door!" Momo was half-sobbing, half-yelling at the door, desperate to see him, to know that he was okay. "Toushirou, answer the door right this minute!"

The apartment door across the hall opened. Someone Momo didn't know stepped out and looked at her a bit worriedly. "Are you looking for Hitsugaya Toushirou?," the mystery lady asked kindly.

"Yes, I am, have you seen him?" The words burst out of her, hope there for the first time in hours.

"I'm sorry, he moved out of there over a month ago."

"What?" Momo was staring now, utterly shell-shocked. He had moved? Why? "He moved?!" She was incredulous.

"Yes." The girl was confused, apparently not understanding Momo's reactions.

Momo ignored it. "Do you know where? Please, tell me where!"

"I'm sorry, I don't know. We never did get to talk much. He did seem oddly in a hurry when he left." She shrugged. "But as far as I know, he didn't leave a forwarding address or anything."

"Do you know _anyone _he might have told? _Anywhere _he might have gone?" Tears were pricking the corners of her eyes. This had been her last chance! Her only lead and final resort! Now she had no way to find him.

The lady shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you more."

"No, that's okay. It's-it's not your fault." She hiccupped and stared at the floor awkwardly. She stood there only for a moment before racing off, the tears finally coming.

Day four.

_.:Unohana:._

When she woke, Unohana knew things had gone badly wrong. The best clue was that her voice was horribly raw, followed quite closely by the bandages wrapped in an odd mimicry of Hitsugaya-Taichou's injuries as sustained from Aizen, traitor.

Ukitake was sitting at her bedside, waiting patiently for her to wake.

"How's Hitsugaya-Taichou?," she rasped out breathily.

Ukitake smiled faintly, unsurprised that the patient came first. "The same, mostly. He's between fits at the moment."

"And my squad members?"

"All fine, though relatively exhausted. And worried about you."

"And you? How are you Ukitake-Taichou? And what happened?," she finished, finally relaxing back against the pillows.

"I'm fine."

He was obviously lying, if the black rings around his eyes were any indication. And that his front was covered in blood, though that could arguably be from other sources. She filed it away to berate him for later.

"As near as I can tell, you were nearly finished with the procedure and ready to start the investigative part, when Toushirou went into another fit. I don't know what exactly you were trying but it seemed like he pulled you along for the ride. You screamed right along with him. The other shinigami were really starting to panic when you started mimicking Toushirou's wounds too. They managed to help you and I staved off Toushirou. They were afraid you wouldn't wake up and we'd have two of you."

Unohana sighed. It wasn't much of a sound, mostly because she didn't have much of a voice by that point. "Things are much worse than I thought," she began. "The kidou I was using was brand new and highly experimental. It was my own design," she added on the end. "The basic idea behind it is to synchronize reiatsu with the patient in order to replicate the state of mind. That way, the doctor, me in this instance, would be allowed entry into the mind in order to diagnose the problem."

By the end of her speech, Ukitake's face had gone utterly white, the exact shad as his hair. "Retsu, you _idiot_!," he hissed at her angrily.

She blinked at him, surprised. He hadn't even used an honorary.

"Entering the mind of a possible _coma _victim and _mimicking _it?! Were you _trying _to lose us another captain?! Because you were well on your way to doing just that! You had _no idea _what the consequences might be! We might be desperate but we're not _that _desperate!" All through his furious speech, he'd managed to keep his voice in almost a whisper to prevent being overheard.

Her response was equally swift and just as furious. "You would have done the same and you know it, Jyuushirou-san!" She, at least, would not forget. "What kind of healer do you think I am? To have thought of a possible answer and _not _tried it? Do you expect me to work so hard only to _let _him die? You know very well that we cannot afford to lose him! And I will not hold back only because of unknown dangers! Certainly, there could have been consequences and there could just as easily have been none! There was no way to know for sure and even if I suspected, it would not have stopped me." Her face was flushed and her voice whip-like as both stared ferociously into the other's eyes.

Silence ensued, broken only by their panting breath. He had no real response to her. There were words he could have said, but he knew that they would not sway her. For now, he relented.

"Well, what did you find out then?"

Unohana gestured towards the pitcher of water first. She didn't think her throat had ever been so sore.

He sighed, pouring her a glass and allowing her to drink before continuing.

"I was able to see very little. His mind essentially rejected me. I think it's that he's a private person who doesn't share or trust easily. I'm not one of those few. So once he sensed the intrusion-unconsciously, I would say-he kicked me out."

"So it was a useless venture, then." Ukitake's voice was perfectly even, almost a warning.

Unohana narrowed her eyes at him. "No, I would hardly say that. I didn't say I saw nothing, after all. I was able to narrow down some of the possibilities. The problem is either in his mind or in the soul itself. Whatever it is, it's like a poison, only less tangible. His mind makes it real and that's why he has those fits. And now we know that only someone he's close to, someone he trusts, can enter his mind." She stared at the bed, before looking up to face Ukitake. "I can only count two that Hitsugaya-Taichou would trust that well. And there's no guarantee that it would either work, or that they would be able to return."

Ukitake sucked in a quick breath but held her gaze. "And that's only to achieve a diagnosis."

"I'll ask," Ukitake finally said.

"Thank you," Unohana managed to whisper before she leaned back against the pillows, slipping into well-needed slumber.

_.:Hinamori:._

Hinamori felt oddly calm. For some reason, today was different. She knew it was, even if she couldn't quite pinpoint _why _it was different. It simply was. And above all, Hinamori trusted her instincts.

Or did she?

Everything was so fuzzy these days. Memories, thoughts, people, everything passed by in an indistinguishable haze. Usually, it irritated her. She was angry at the neglect. She was furious that no one would tell her anything!

She was downright enraged that Aizen-Taichou was, apparently, no where to be found, because he still hadn't rescued her from this horrible prison. She hated that Toushirou hadn't come to save her either! He would know better than anyone how devastated she was without her captain! Why wasn't he here?

Had he betrayed her too?

The thought had her shooting to her feet, adrenaline racing through her entire body. She attacked everything indiscriminately, overturning beds, slamming chairs, shattering glass. Everything fed the rising fury and she cultivated it, destroying her surroundings fairly completely.

She stopped, huffing and out of breath in the center of the room.

Where had the destruction come from? Where was her bed? Her seat? And why didn't she have any food?

Oddly though, the ruined room seemed to stabilize her and she slid into a sitting position on the floor, admiring it. The day was so peaceful. She couldn't quite explain why, yet she knew it was…

_.:Momo:._

Momo endured days four and five in pure torture (it was the weekend). She was positive that Sousuke had stopped by at some point, but she'd refused to see him. The only calls she was taking, the only person she was seeing (other than her mother) was Toushirou. She waited horribly, hearing no word and despairing further as each moment passed. It was the first time she could say that school was truly a welcome change of pace.

She walked into school on the sixth day half trembling with anxiety and the other half dead from exhaustion and misery. Scanning the grounds quickly, she caught no sign of Toushirou anywhere. Her shoulders slumped in discouraged disappointment. She trudged off to class, utterly dejected.

And so it was that she ran straight into someone. Someone with suspiciously spiky white hair.

"Toushirou!," Momo exclaimed in shock. "Toushirou, you're ok!" She wrapped her arms around him promptly and hugged him as tightly as she could. And then she was crying again, unable to hold in her relief that she wasn't too late. "Toushirou, Toushirou, you're ok!," she whimpered.

He pushed her off, giving her the strangest look. She didn't understand it at all. _Was it… Was it disgust?_

"Of course I'm ok. Silly girl, what did you think, I was dying or something?"

_Why was his voice so cold?_

His face mocked her. It mocked her whole being down to her very tear-stained cheeks. She realized, with a humiliating blush, that many other students were watching them.

_It was exactly what she had thought._

She didn't answer.

He leaned forward, smiling that horrible smile at her. "Don't try to follow me again." He paused and his voice suddenly took on a darkly ominous tone. "Or I'll punish you worse than this."

And then she understood with crashing certainty that he had disappeared on purpose so as to cause this embarrassing scene.

She fled, heart breaking yet again.

_.:Hitsugaya:._

Pain.

Hitsugaya should have known that the answer would have been found in the pain.

But he could do it now. He knew. He knew and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. And he was.

He had already begun.


	6. Or Seeing at Last?

AN: HEY LOOK, I UPDATED SOMETHING! i so proud of myself. lol. yeah, i know it's been ages since i've managed to post stuff, but it's cuz i've finally come home from school for the summer and between finals, unpacking, seeing my friends again (finally) and starting up work again i've had literally /no/ time to write... believe me, the saddest one about that is me (cries). but here i am, finally finishing this stupid chapter!! i will say now, very tentatively that we are app. HALFWAY through the story! that's right, i said halfway. lol. this is the last chapter of erm... well... confusing stuff? after this, i'm actually going to start /telling/ you stuff! yeah, explanations! (grins). anyway, this chapter is also long (like the last one) for some inexplicable reason, only there are more short scenes instead of a few super long ones. ah well. also, i've redone my profile (in case you're interested)... i turned twenty last wednesday (hurrah!) so that was pretty exciting and it inspired me to /finally/ finish this chapter, which has been nearly finished for about a month... well, i hope you enjoy and i'll hopefully be back with more soon. lol.

_**Warning:**_ Vaguely graphic torture scene in the third scene. Iffen you don't like torture... you've been warned. I won't say it'll be the only one (after all, this /is/ primarily a hitsuwhumpage fic and therefore violent in general), but at least i warned you? lol.

_.:Hitsugaya:._

Hitsugaya had lied. He hadn't wanted to. Well, not especially. He hated making Hinamori cry. But he knew the stakes, weighed the disadvantages and made his decision.

The only way to protect her was to hurt her. As long as he kept her emotionally unstable, she'd never be able to continue her investigation.

But he'd implied that he'd created the opportunity only to humiliate her. That had been very untrue. He'd just seen her reaction and known immediately and instinctively what to do.

In reality, he'd been unable to even move properly for most of those absentee days. He'd only just gotten the hang of his injuries during the weekend, which was why he'd made it to school at all, though he'd considered skipping.

The pain in his chest flared for a moment and he swayed, suddenly very dizzy. Perhaps he shouldn't have come after all. He forced the dizziness back by breathing exactly evenly and staring straight ahead, keeping himself as upright as possible. He used his analytical precision with detail to count out and measure time between steps, controlling as much of his body as possible as carefully as possible. A difficult task, but Hitsugaya was an expert.

Hitsugaya had embraced the coldness that seemed to freeze up inside him. It locked all his other reactions in place. It gave him utter control and so he willingly succumbed to its emotionless state. The cold also gave him new strength and he managed to walk to class. He didn't think that anyone had noticed, but of course, there were never any guarantees.

Only seven periods to go.

_.:Hinamori:._

Now she was crying. Not her Taichou, not her _Taichou!_

Hinamori was surprised to discover it was a physical ache. She was not as surprised by the horrible keening sound seeming to pull itself from her throat.

It felt as if she had spent years in isolation. Years in this sterile, white cell. The one that she had systematically destroyed because it was simply too pristine. Too perfect.

Hinamori knew better than to trust perfect. She hated that she knew better. She hated that she should have to know.

Nothing in her world was making sense anymore. Wasn't perfection to be desired? "Practice makes perfect?"

Maybe the truth wasn't quite so simple. Maybe perfection didn't really exist.

Hinamori latched onto the idea, distracting herself with ideas instead of dealing with reality. She giggled hysterically, sobs still clogging her throat. Perfection was a lie. Everything she _was, _was a lie.

So where was the truth?

There was no one to answer her.

Her reiatsu was sealed, the room was locked. There was no one inside. She heard no one outside. Emptiness, emptiness everywhere. No one to rescue her, no one to protect her, no one to coddle her, no one to even betray her.

And as grateful as she was, she was also terrified of the whiteness and the loneliness.

_Where was Toushirou?_

She frowned at the sudden and unbidden thought. It was true. Toushirou had never left her or abandoned her this way before. It was true that she'd seen him much less often since-she stopped herself-since then, but he had always inexplicably been there when she'd needed him. It made no sense that he would not be here now, especially since it'd been so long.

But then, nothing made sense anymore.

So she shrugged all thought aside and let her tears take over.

_.:Him:._

He wondered if he'd ever known anything but screaming. It seemed unlikely. His whole world was his screams. They echoed in the air and in his head, until he could not distinguish between his mind and reality.

The only thing that kept him grounded was the pain. Sometimes it skimmed along his skin, only tearing pieces and strips off the surface. That hurt, but it was nothing compared to her special hook. The hook was designed to slip between the ribs, pulling at muscle and flesh normally attached to bone. She felt no hurry and took her time, savoring each scream and cherishing every twitch of agony.

"You are a killer," she whispered. As if he could hear through the haze of his own screams. As if he could comprehend when all he understood was suffering. "You are a killer," she hissed darkly, smoothly, "but you are _my _killer! You obey _only _me!" She snatched a fistful of his hair, twisting his neck back painfully to croon in his ear. "Do you understand? If you do not obey, this is your punishment!" She pressed the hook deeper into his rib, shifting firmly until she heard the satisfying crack of a rib. Blood already covered her hands in a sticky wetness, too thick to dry properly and too dark to determine a color.

His screams peaked, transforming into desperate shouts, begging for freedom, for sheer _relief _and she smiled with catlike satisfaction.

The torture continued. It always lasted until the victim had no voice left.

_.:Momo:._

Somewhere in the space of a single class period, Momo had managed to transmute her hurt into angry rage. Her Toushirou had humiliated her. He had tried to punish her. How _dare _he, breaking her heart for his own cruel intentions? She may not have been the perfect friend, but she hardly thought she deserved such treatment! And she had never been one for rolling over and simply accepting what had been handed to her.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. It coalesced into a red film that covered her whole vision. She was unable to concentrate in classes, because her mind kept sweeping around the scene that morning. She barely noticed the strange looks other students were giving her. She barely even noticed Rukia trying to ask her what was wrong.

She had spent days in positive _agony_, constantly worrying about him. She had been neglecting Sousuke when she knew he only wanted to help her. She was paying attention, trying to rectify her earlier mistakes that Toushirou said she'd made.

Oh, she knew why he'd done it. He didn't want her to know why he kept doing what-she forced her mind around the thought-why he kept hurting himself, so he was being deliberately cruel to throw her off.

Well, that didn't make it right. She refused to let this behavior continue. She knew she was working herself into an unreasonable frenzy, but she simply couldn't help it! This was _Toushirou_, her best friend. He was hurting and he was hurting her. And Momo simply didn't stand for such things.

_.:Unohana:._

Unohana, Ukitake and Matsumoto-fukutaichou were all standing before Hitsugaya-taichou's bedside. His breathing was irregular but not too shallow. His wounds had stopped bleeding-for the moment-and it seemed as though the room was drowning in low-level healers. Matsumoto's face was creased with worry as she chewed on her lower lip nervously.

"Unohana-Taichou…. What hope does he have if I refuse?"

Unohana did not look at the fukutaichou, understanding the question perfectly. It was a huge risk to take, knowing it likely that neither mind would be recoverable if it failed. The odds were appallingly high in favor of that possibility and any reasonable soul would want to know the detractors of every choice.

"There is honestly no way to determine that, as you might imagine. This is because we frankly don't know what's wrong with him. However, I don't know how I could help him without achieving a diagnosis."

Matsumoto nodded distractedly, as if this was little more than she had expected. "Of course, I'll do it." Her voice was firm, despite her face being pale.

"Thank you," the healer whispered. She laid a hand on Matsumoto's shoulder. "I'll help you stabilize your reiatsu."

Ukitake watched carefully through narrow eyes as the procedure began. Matsumoto started off in a nearly whispered chant, her hands moving in an intricate dance. Both he and Unohana had been surprised at how quickly she'd picked up the steps. Her murmuring grew louder in an ebb and flow pattern, rising and falling. She swayed slightly and allowed her eyes to slide halfway shut.

Unohana fixed her eyes to the figure on the bed. If Hitsugaya showed any signs of entering another fit (unfortunately, likely) then she had to be ready to both rescue him and return Matsumoto's mind to her body. The end of the sequence approached. Unohana's muscles tensed against her will, anxiety pouring through her.

Matsumoto uttered the last of the incantation. A great flash of white light flooded the room before it was swallowed in darkness. Matsumoto's body went rigid under her hand.

_.:Hitsugaya:._

Hitsugaya had unwillingly been watching Hinamori. Unwilling because he didn't want to be caught staring or asked _why _he was studying her face so closely. He was transfixed however, and couldn't help but stare at her gradually changing expression.

She looked oddly torn between sheer rage and deep hurt. It was as if she simply kept shifting between the two possible emotions, making it impossible for her to think of anything else.

He worried that he'd taken the game too far. Perhaps he had crossed that fine line that tipped the scales back in her favor. Or, out of her favor, depending on how he was examining it. If the fact she hadn't heard Rukia speaking to her for the fifth time was any indication, it seemed he had.

In fact, worry was far too mild a term for the terror pulsing at the back of his mind, but he let the cold keep it at bay. It could not help him now and he needed to be extremely cognizant of his surroundings, especially given how much trouble he was having simply traveling to his different classes.

It was nearly the end of second period and her emotions had seemed to grow only more and more erratic and Hitsugaya suddenly found himself fervently wishing he had followed his initial instincts and simply not come to school. He had this odd feeling he might have been better off. He didn't think he'd be able to escape by the time the class would end and she would have made her way to him.

For the longer he watched her, the more certain he was that she was indeed moving towards confrontation.

The bell rang.

_.:Momo:._

Momo stood at the clanging sound, her body automatically recognizing the end of the period though her mind was focused only on Toushirou.

Her eyes saw only red and only tears as she strode purposefully to the chair he was rising from.

She barely noticed the slow, careful edge to his movements.

She barely noticed the way his eyes had been following her every motion with razor-sharp attention.

She barely noticed the black under his eyes, indicating loss of sleep or the tired droop to his white, spiky hair.

All she could see were the crisscrossing scars across his arms and the mocking expression his face wore in their past encounters. All she could see were his self-destructive behaviors.

"Toushirou, how _could _you?!" Tears were pricking the corners of her eyes again, but these were of rage. "You _know _I only want to help! You have to tell me what's going on!"

He let the edges of his mouth curl into a sneer, this one containing no mockery, only irritation. "Silly girl, you can't help me. Now, stay out of my busi-"

Momo was done listening to his disgustingly bossy and callous attitude. She barely even realized what she was doing before her hand was flying through the air and connected with a resounding _smack _on Toushirou's cheek.

_.:Unohana:._

Unohana already felt a layer of sweat drenching her brow and not five minutes had passed. At least, she didn't think so. Time had ceased to matter, anxiety in the room was so thick. The only thing that mattered was that Hitsugaya-Taichou had not yet begun another fit. His body was calm and quiet, if somewhat erratic in breathing.

Matsumoto still stood, absolutely motionless and terrifyingly stiff.

Unohana wished and hoped that this was an effect of the spell and not a foreboding sign of something gone horribly wrong. Upon reflection, she should have practiced it on a normal konpaku first. Well, it was too late now.

Then, the body on the bed began to glow with a faint, blueish-white aura. It grew gradually in intensity for mere moments before exploding outward in a blast of reiatsu, knocking Matsumoto into Unohana and onto the floor. Matsumoto was suddenly moving and writhing, screaming horribly in an eerie imitation of her captain's fits, lying not yards from her. While Hitsugaya lay merely perfectly, coldly still, Matsumoto would not stop shifting or screaming and Unohana had to work in order to extricate herself from underneath the pained fukutaichou. Hair, in particular, was smothering her face, making it difficult to chant any kind of kidou.

Before Unohana had had ample opportunity to think of the appropriate counter-spell, Matsumoto had already gone deathly still. Frantic, Unohana bent over the pale fukutaichou, desperately looking for any sign of breathing or heartbeats. For one terrifying moment, she could see naught of either, until she realized it was more due to her vision being obstructed by tears. Furious at losing her composure, she wiped them away and sighed in audible relief at the shallow breaths. At the very least, Matsumoto-fukutaichou was still alive.

Even though it seemed that her current condition would indicate that Hitsugaya's mind had rejected her. She staved off the disappointment for another time.

Even though it meant there could only be one other konpaku left to ask. Unohana shuddered in an oddly clear moment of foreshadowing. She couldn't help but have a bad feeling about leaving everything to the (as far as she still knew) Aizen-obsessed Hinamori.

_.:Hitsugaya:._

Hitsugaya staggered, the entire world suddenly shifting, spinning and twirling as Hinamori's hand crashed across his face, deafening the classroom with an odd finality. He noted unimportantly that the room had emptied itself uncharacteristically quickly and realized distantly that his mind was splintering itself in order to separate him from the intense agony that was quickly ravaging his whole body, especially the deep cuts he'd sustained around his rib cage. He only just managed to avoid crying out, but could help the buckling of his knees that caused him to tumble to the ground.

The jarring sensations echoed and rippled across his bone structure, awakening the aches and opening wounds he had only just managed to close.

He swore silently to himself as the last vestiges of pain exploded, catapulting him to the waiting black of unconsciousness.

_.:Momo:._

Momo stared at Toushirou, mind not yet having digested that he had passed out at her feet from a simple slap. Mere moments later, she could see the blood beginning to stain his shirt red as it broke the torn flesh in a rush of crimson.

"Toushirou!" she yelped in surprise. Quickly, she leaned down, pressing her hand against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

His body's unexpected reaction had somehow killed any anger she might have had, wiping her emotions clean. It took her a minute or two before her brain kicked back into gear. She was already yelling for help when the realizations began to crash down on her.

He was wounded in new places.

The injuries were positively horrific.

There was no _way _this was self-inflicted.

Her mind hit that blank wall of panic and terror as she finally realized what had been happening all along.

It was _that _again!

She shuddered against her will, hardly noticing that they had already taken Toushirou away.

He had been fooling her all along! Always diverting her towards other possibilities.

But it was worse than she had ever imagined!

_Not that! _her mind cried. _Not that!_

_.:End Chapter:._

_**To Mimimichie:**_ i dunno, you might start figuring it out soon! well, to answer your guess... you're partially right! (yeah, how's that, someone's actually partially right and i admitted it!) so good job for being on the right trail! unfortunately, i'm not telling what's right, lol. also, some of the other guesses /have/ had elements of being right, though none totally are... so thanks for continuing to review and guess!

See you next time!


	7. The Past

AN: DUDE!! DUDE!! okay, seriously, this /epic/! changes to the story! well, at least format. short scene-cut format has officially been abandoned!! and, and, and, i'm resolving a plot thread!! dances around in celebration aren't you excited?? explanations ahead! you are about to learn things! so, even though there's a scene-break thing halfway, it's still the same pov. also,

**_WARNING:_** um, more violence this chappie. not quite so graphic as last time, but bad enough. also, char. deaths begin here. consider yourself warned. on that note, i hope you enjoy!!

_.:Him:._

Something was off today.

He could sense it. The very air was humming with unexpected tension. His whole body was so carefully attuned with the atmosphere of acute change that even it was vibrating with anticipation. Though what he was anticipating, he could not guess.

Only that it was wrong.

He wanted to say that he could take advantage of the possible confusion, but the truth was, he was probably still too weak. The injuries he had sustained as a result of his most recent failed attempt had kept him from all fights for a full two days-previously unheard of in his record. Either she had stepped up the torture, or he was better at coping.

However, she hadn't bothered to take it easy on him, throwing some of her best trained into his darkened cell once those two days had passed. Frankly, he was surprised he had survived. Only his sheer hatred of her had kept death at bay, had kept him from the unconsciousness that surely would have ended all of his ambitions.

It had only been a week and he knew he was nowhere near strong enough to try again. Still, he shifted noiselessly towards the door. Agonizingly slowly, not even he could hear the sound of his own breath or the light shuffle of bandages.

Footsteps. Outside the door.

Pitter, patter, down the hall. They faded slowly, echoes lasting only briefly before being drowned out by faster footsteps, pounding down the hardwood floor.

Usually, there was only absolute silence. It was another of her techniques (combined with absolute darkness) to create a void and vacuum that would encourage heightened attunement towards those senses once freed from the emptiness of stimulus. He snarled silently, hating the constant control, the way it caged his reactions to suit herpreferences.

Light, under the doorway.

He stared, fascinated.

Hushed voices whispered into the stillness. Panicked voices.

Clicking, like the tinkle of metal on the stone wall.

A quiet murmur through the cracks.

"Hey, is someone there?"

So faint he could barely hear it coupled with words he'd never heard spoken. He strained, trying to recognize a voice he knew he must have never heard, struggling to convince himself that he had not imagined the sounds.

"Is anyone in this room?"

Voice hoarse from disuse and still partially convinced it was a trap, he whispered back, "Yes, yes, yes. Is there anyone there?" Desperation he hadn't known existed echoed in the nearly undetectable words.

"Yes!" the unidentified voice was crowing with delight, albeit relatively inaudibly. "We're picking the locks on your room. You'll be able to escape!"

_Escape? _He might have laughed if he remembered how. None of them bothered trying to escape. It wasn't that they didn't want to be free of this life. It wasn't that they were so whipped as to never try to defy her for fear of the consequences.

It was simply that they had already endured so much at her hands that all were more than willing to endure more in order to wait for the opportunity to pay her back. Still, there was no need for his odd compatriots to know that. After all, he still wasn't sure he didn't suspect a trap.

The door clicked open and he blinked against the sudden blinding light. Gasping, he fell back, only just remembering how bright all light was after the sublimation into darkness. He blinked his eyes rapidly, carefully focusing on the floor so as to adjust quicker, not looking into the faces of the two individuals he knew were crouched just past the door.

"J-just a little boy…." the second voice whispered, shock and surprise forcing it to speak for the first time.

He looked up at her face swiftly, memorizing the features and quickly realizing it wasn't _her_. He growled softly, warningly. "Who are you?"

"We-we're here to rescue you…" the first voice whispered. "Well, everyone here…." His voice trailed off, clearly frightened by the feral expression still on his face. "But you're so young…" His voice was anguished.

"Can't help my age," he growled, mistakenly interpreting the fragmented sentence to imply that the two were looking for someone older. "So where is she?"

The two glanced at one another in confusion. "Who?"

"_Her!_"

"Do you mean the lady who owns this place?" the girl asked quickly.

He sneered at her. Clearly, neither had spent any extended time here. Otherwise, they would know. "Get out of here while you still can."

"No! We're here to rescue my brother," the girl said bravely.

He shrugged. "Well, don't blame me if you get killed or worse, captured."

He slipped past them to venture down the hall.

"Wait! Don't you want to help us?"

He looked back, vaguely confused. "Why would I do that? Anyone else you 'rescue' would just get in my way."

"At least tell us your name," the girl pled.

He frowned. "Name? What use would I have for that?" With that, he turned and sprinted down the hall, turning the corner. He had only been down this way a few times, on his journeys to see the sun, but it was burned into his memory. He knew he passed _her _apartments on the way out. Just as he was nearing the entrance (only minutes later), he heard screams back near his own corridor.

"NO! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU, HOW DARE YOU, HOW DARE YOU!" shrieked endlessly down the hallways and he knew instantly the two had not followed his advice, but rather, had been caught. Still, he could not bring himself to feel too sorry, as it would help him now. He knew where she was, but she did not know where he was. He whipped around, racing back to where he had come from.

Peering around the corner, he noted immediately that her back was to him. She was still shouting, kicking and slapping the boy while the girl merely stood by and cried. He was puzzled that she hadn't moved to attack, especially since her friend was nearly unconscious by this point. He was bleeding from his mouth and nose, bruises forming along the jaw line, as well as up and down his arms and legs.

He knew she was far too infuriated to notice anyone's approach, especially one as quiet as his own. He only hoped the somehow terribly inexperienced pair wouldn't give him away as he crept up behind her.

He heard a very distinct crack as foot connected with ribs and the girl screamed, finally shoving herself forward between _her _and her friend.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead, focused on his task.

She was still wearing her telltale hook, favored torture weapon lately. He bared a private grin to himself. It would be easy enough to take out her legs (with her attention so completely diverted) and snatch the hook right out of her waistband.

The girl was crying out with pain when he finally came within range. He tackled her at the knees, sweeping his shoulder into the back of the joints while his other hand snatched the hook. She fell back to the floor, landing hard on the smoothly polished hardwood. He wasted no time in spinning around and launching on top of her while she was still disoriented. Straddling her waist, he leaned forward, holding the hook carefully at her delicately slender neck.

Her eyes glowed blue with rage at his audacity. Strange, he'd never really seen their color before. Shrugging of her appearance as entirely trivial, he quickly slit through her throat, careful not to cut to deep.

She made a strangled, incoherent noise deep in her throat as her arm flew up to punch his face. He blocked it swiftly, catching her wrist and twisting the arm away from the body until he heard a satisfying snap. She was fairly sputtering with rage now, spittle nearly flying into his face. She tried pushing herself up, as he was quite light in comparison, but he stabbed the hook straight into her chest-not too deep-which effectively forced her back to the ground. She tried to kick at him, and he snickered at the pathetic attempt. He was small and far enough up on her body that she'd never manage a decent reach with her foot.

She kneed him in the back and he ignored the pain that shuddered through him as his recent wounds reopened. Instead, he drew the hook deep along the arm with an intact wrist, cutting far enough into the muscle so as to make it utterly useless. He punched her face with his free hand, as she brought her knee into his back yet again. He lifted her head by the hair and slammed it back into the concrete. As much as he had wanted to draw this moment out, it seemed that his injuries were necessitating a swifter finale. He slammed her head against the now bloodied floor, grinning madly. He would succeed.

Over and over, he pounded her skull to the floor as her eyes slowly glazed over and she simply stopped moving. He barely realized he was laughing. He definitely didn't hear the girl crying behind him, shouting something at him. She grasped his shoulder and he reacted without thinking, whirling around to grab her wrist and twist it firmly before realizing who it was. He abruptly released her, shoving her away. "Don't touch me."

She whimpered fearfully. "Are all of you like that?" she asked, voice unconsciously a whisper.

"Like what?" he asked, puzzled.

"So, so violent!" she finally managed, arms flailing a bit.

He frowned. "Isn't everyone?"

"No!"

He shrugged. "Well, you should be safe now. Assuming you don't try to touch anyone else by surprise here."

"Wait! Do-do you know where my brother is?"

He stopped and looked at her for a moment. "No. If your brother's been gone for a while…. I wouldn't count on him being as you remember."

"N-no, he got kidnapped really recently."

"Then he's probably dead." He turned and started off down the hallway, eager to see the sun now that he was finally free. The strangled cry from behind didn't mean anything to him as he thought about being outside without _her_. He started running.

_.:Him:._

He'd been outside for a week or two now and it was bloody confusing. For one, there were people everywhere. That in itself was difficult to understand, as he'd never seen anyone outside of the dark except for her. For two, everyone seemed to fight rather randomly and when they did, not well. They also seemed to think that he was someone to be taken advantage of, being only a kid. They tried stealing his food or just looking for a fight, but he killed them all easily. A lot of people commented on his white hair, which he hadn't even known he'd had before his escape. Even though he didn't see anyone with his hair color, he still didn't see the big deal about it. It was only hair after all.

The worst part though, was that everyone talked so much, and so quickly. It was quite difficult getting used to listening for comprehension or remembering that he was occasionally expected to respond. Oftentimes, he'd simply killed someone merely to get them to stop talking. Though he didn't particularly understand why others got so worked up about him killing. After all, it didn't seem too terribly uncommon here.

Everything started to take a turn for surreal though, when he spotted this old lady being set upon by a group of thugs, apparently prepared to steal the food she'd managed to acquire. He was bored at the time, and had been missing a good fight since his wounds had started to heal more properly. They all looked fairly weak in comparison, so he sped over and immediately attacked. It was an unfortunately short fight, in which he managed to kill all of the attackers in brief minutes. He sighed, oddly disappointed, before taking note of the old lady.

She was staring at him. "Little boy, why are you such a killer?"

He shrugged, feeling strangely uncomfortable beneath her piercing stare. "Isn't everyone?"

"No," she answered.

It was his turn to stare, genuinely confused. "They're not? Well, I guess that might explain why they're not so fond of me around here…." He trailed off uncertainly. Was it really possible that his childhood had been so different from everyone else's? Was it really true that others were not trained as killers?

"Do you have a place to stay?" she queried.

He looked up at her. "No."

"What's your name?"

"I don't have one."

"Well, I suppose you ought to if you're to stay with me. I have to have something to call you. How does Toushirou sound?"

He shrugged again. "Can't see as it matters, but all right. You got food, right?"

"Yes," the lady smiled. "You may call me Okaa-san. Come, I live this way."

He trotted after her, more interested in the food than the lady or somewhere to sleep.

He ended up staying with her. After all, an old lady who didn't fear wandering amongst the thugs to obtain food was bound to constantly attract attention, which meant brief reprieves from boredom and a constant supply of food. She did have this thing about trying to stop him from killing those who attacked. Something about appreciating the defense, but it being a bad habit.

He always ignored it. After all, it wasn't as though he was protecting her, merely entertaining himself. He didn't particularly understand affection, having never really been exposed to it. Well, maybe he had, but that would have been before _her_, and he remembered nothing from those times.

And then he saw her. It had been a few weeks since he had met the old lady and, much to his annoyance, he had, in fact, cut back on killing. In this instance, however, she wasn't the one being attacked.

It was a much younger girl, not much older than himself, surrounded by a ring of what he could only describe as bullies. She clutched a brown paper bag firmly in front of her and was staring down her opponents fearlessly. He was impressed at her bravado, considering most people here tended towards cowardice. She had brown hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders and large brown eyes, set in a defiant expression. He was transfixed.

"Well, don't just stand there, aren't you going to rescue her, Toushirou?" the old lady urged him, nudging him in the side.

He glanced at her briefly, scowling, before taking off in the direction of the girl.

So swiftly did he move, it was nearly a blur and all the men antagonizing her had been defeated. There bodies were lying on the ground in pools of their own blood as he turned to face her.

She was glaring at him. "Why did you kill those men?"

He blinked, surprised. Hadn't he just saved her? "They were bothering." His brows furrowed in confusion and he scowled at her.

"I could have handled myself. There was no need to kill them!" She put her hands on her hips. "I could have done it without killing them."

"Oh, really?" He lifted a brow, naturally skeptical of the little girl.

"I wouldn't have gotten caught at all, only I was distracted by my find today." Her eyes lit up at the pronouncement and she clutched closer at the paper bag.

His eyes narrowed, focusing on the bag.

"Would you like to see?" Caught up in her excitement, she seemed to have forgotten her anger towards him.

Much as he wanted to say no, he admitted to himself that he was curious. "I guess," he muttered.

She smiled at him, totally innocent. "Now, now, don't sound so depressed about it!" She giggled. "Come on, sound interested!"

"Baka," he muttered, turning back to head over to the lady, already oddly disappointed at the turns the conversation had taken. First she yelled at him, then she teased him and he was used to neither interactions. At least with the old lady, she didn't keep changing her mind.

"Hey, come back! Where are you going?" She followed after him. "What's your name?"

He stopped and turned to face her. "Are you going to follow me all night?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go…" She trailed off. "And you _did _save me, so you can't be all bad!" She smiled at him again.

He stared at her, caught in that strange fixation again. "Toushirou," he finally said.

"Toushirou? That's a nice name."

"It's what the old lady calls me, anyway."

"I'll call you Shirou-chan! It's because your hair's white," she added, giggling.

"What, no!" he cried, whirling around. "Don't call me that," he said resentfully.

"Why not? If you can't even be excited about my special treat, then why shouldn't I?"

He crossed his arms, abruptly turning back and stalking the last few feet to where the old lady was waiting for him.

"What have I told you about killing them?" she asked tiredly, if a tad exasperated.

"I tried telling him that too," the new girl interjected. "Besides, I could have handled it."

"Well, what's your name, sweetheart?" the lady asked, turning her attention aside.

"Hinamori. Hinamori Momo!" She smiled again. "Do _you _want to see what I found?"

"Momo-chan. What a beautiful name! And I would _love _to see your surprise, dear."

"Okay!" She pulled it carefully out of the paper bag with a delicate reverence. It was hard-skinned, striped in various shades of green.

"A watermelon!" Okaa-san exclaimed.

"What's a watermelon?" Toushirou asked, rather confused.

Momo gasped. "You've never had watermelon?"

Toushirou scowled at her.

"Oh, now we have to go have some!"

The old lady smiled. "Of course we do. Why don't you come home with us, Momo-chan?"

Her eyes turned bright and happy. "I'd love to, Okaa-san."

And from then on, it had been the three of them, living in their little house and eating watermelons. Hinamori never forced him to change who he was and never really asked how it was he had become a killer. But he did find that somehow, being around her softened him. He found that, bizarre as it was, the passage of time with his little family lessened his urge to kill, to fight, until he could barely remember the times when the dark meant everything. _She _no longer dominated his thoughts. Weirdest of all, was that he thought he might be happy at last.

And then Hinamori went on to become a shinigami and nothing was ever quite the same again.

AN: (again, lol) okay, now you have to tell me one) if you liked and two) what you think is going on now that one plot thread is wrapped up!! i soooo can't wait to see what everyone has to say now! (is excited). also, this is officially the longest chappie to date. yay! and i slaved and wrote the thing in like, three days. be proud of me! it was difficult. anyway... curses. i know i had something else to say, but now i've forgotten. ah well. until next time (or reviews) love you all!


	8. Or the Present?

AN: Well, well, well, look what it is!! a chapter of utter chaos! (grins) actually, (dances around fidgeting), i'm SOOOO excited about this! seriously. (drools). okay, couple things to say before you go ahead to this chapter... i'm soooo sorry to all of you i replied so late to!! real life is out to get me this summer as i'm ridiculously busy... seriously, this is about the /only/ writing i've done this summer (excluding some drabbly bits). so, sorry about that and hopefully i'll be a lot quicker this time around. second, most of you noticed this but i /did/ want to clarify... the plot thread wrapped up last chapter /was/ hitsugaya's past. the other two plots have yet to wrap up of course. after this chapter, there are at /least/ four more... so close to the end, but not too close. lol. as for the the chapter itself, there /are/ some scene clips, as you'll note, but for the most part, they don't feature particular characters. I didn't bother labelling the scenes with names for that reason. also, just to clarify, this is entirely within the 'canon' plot thread. after this we will, at long last, be returning to the high school plot thread. (grins). oh! and a fun note!! i wrote this chapter in a DAY! (dances around in happy circles). anyway, enjoy the chapter, and, as always, i look forward to your reviews and guesses!

* * *

"What happened?" Matsumoto-fukutaichou's voice croaked. Her whole body ached, every muscle clenching with simple flexing and unflexing. Her throat was dry, contributing to the extreme scratchiness of her words. Her memory also seemed a bit fuzzy around the edges as she realized she was laying in a white bed somewhere in the fourth division.

Unohana was sitting in a chair directly next to the bed, looking both weary and at her wits' end. "Matsumoto-fukutaichou. You're awake." She automatically stood, leaning over the blonde vice-captain and stretching her hands to perform a kidou examination.

"Unohana-Taichou?" She looked seriously at the healer for a moment. "I don't think I succeeded." She frowned.

Unohana nodded. She had expected that. "Yes, I myself was unable to break through to Hitsugaya-Taichou. But still, tell me what you saw." Apparently satisfied with the examination, she sat down once more and gave Matsumoto her full attention.

Matsumoto's frown intensified as she struggled to remember precisely how it had felt, reliving the experience as closely as possible. The incantation, the spell, the kidou and then….

It was as if her mind had wrenched itself forward. Positioned like a spear, it dove towards Hitsugaya-Taichou's own mind before shattering against a wall. She felt out of her own soul. She saw glimpses of things, fragments of memories or images she didn't know how to interpret.

_A young Taichou, shivering in the dark and bleeding…_

_A Hitsugaya wearing human's clothes, standing in an empty kitchen. Everything was desperately clean and perfectly immaculate, but the look of terror in his eyes…_

_Flashes of Hinamori-fukutaichou were everywhere and of every age. She smiled, she cried, she laughed, she bled…_

_Hinamori dead on the ground and Aizen's mocking face…_

But more than anything else, a physical pain that had fused into an emotional anguish to form an impenetrable wall of suffering. _And then everything had gone cold and black as that pain attacked, latching on to her own body…_

"It was all incoherent flashes… I saw what seemed to be memories and what _couldn't _be memories. And there was so much pain, it was hard to remember anything at all…"

She trailed off and Unohana was silent as she contemplated this.

"Well, it seems as if you did manage to progress further than I did. Thank you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

"Tell me, will it help him? What I saw, can it help save him?"

"If I can, I want to try one more thing. Then, then we will see."

* * *

Ukitake would have been lying if he said he wasn't surprised upon stepping into Hinamori Momo's room.

Before her unofficial incarceration into the room, it had been large enough to hold eight patients and had been fully equipped with beds for each, dressers and scattered chairs for comfort.

Now it was empty. There was no furniture, no paintings on the walls, nothing but the Fifth Division's fukutaichou, huddling in a corner and dressed all in black.

She looked up immediately when Ukitake entered, muttering to herself and eyes a bit wild.

"All white, all white. Black in a world of white…" A hysterical bubble of laughter escaped her lips as Ukitake carefully closed the door behind him.

"Hinamori-fukutaichou?"

"Ukitake-Taichou." For a moment, the sanity seemed to return as she recognized a fellow soul reaper. Then they glazed back over, slipping away. "Ukitake-Taichou dressed in white. Nothing but a stain…" She looked down at her own clothes and that same, pathetic laugh emerged.

"How long have you been in here alone?" he asked, shocked and more than a bit worried.

"Alone…" she whispered. "What is time? What is energy? What is alone? Nothing but perfect white means nothing but darkness." Her voice was a hiss by the end.

With every word she uttered, Ukitake was growing more and more concerned. Unohana wanted to count on _her _to penetrate Hitsugaya's mind? It seemed as if her time here had only served to unhinge her more, rather than prepare her for a return to the ranks of the Gotei 13.

"Where is Toushirou-kun?" she suddenly barked at him. "What have you done with him?! I know he wouldn't leave me be this long, especially when I needed him! Have you murdered him the same way you murdered Aizen-Taichou?!" Her eyes were flashing and her voice rose with every precarious word.

Ukitake resisted the urge to sigh. They really had made a mistake by not caring for her immediately.

"Actually, that's why I'm here Hinamori-fukutaichou. Toushirou-kun needs your help."

"What? Toushirou needs my help?" The mists were clearing from her eyes and she gripped Ukitake's wrists, moving closer. "What happened? Where is he?"

"He was injured—" Ukitake wisely refrained from mentioning by whom "—and hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"Why not? Tell me!"

Ukitake could tell that, for some reason, the worry for her best friend was slowly returning her mind. Though it might be that contact with another konpaku helped also.

"We don't know. But while he's unconscious, he has these… fits that prevent him from healing properly. He starts screaming, and shaking, as if he's having a seizure, and his wounds reopen."

She stared at him. "Shiro-chan…" she murmured. "But how can I help?" Her eyes flashed again. "And why should I? What if he's one of the ones who took Aizen-Taichou from me? Like you! How do I know you're not lying?!"

"How can you know without asking him, Hinamori-fukutaichou?" The expression on his face was carefully masked to appear indifferent. He knew she must be handled carefully if he was to get her to agree.

"And how can I trust _you_?" She crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall.

He smiled at her gently—a very Ukitake-like smile in its friendliness—before answering. "What exactly do you have to lose?"

Hinamori had to stop to consider that.

"All right. We'll see how it goes, then. Take me to him."

Nodding, Ukitake stood and strode to the door.

* * *

Unohana was already there and waiting for Ukitake's and Hinamori's approach. Ukitake had sent her a butterfly as they left so that she'd know to prepare both Hitsugaya and the room for the unstable fukutaichou.

She had cleared out all of the other division members from his room, instructing them to stay close, just in case an emergency did arise. She had striven to clean the room to some degree, but knew it was mostly useless and that the blood would only accumulate again during the next fit. She had to admit to being a bit worried about how Hinamori would react. Would she even be able to help?

Steps clipped and echoed down the hallway. Hinamori and Ukitake entered the room together, sliding the fusuma shut behind them.

"Toushirou!" Hinamori exclaimed, rushing immediately to his side.

Unohana had to admit to herself that he didn't look that good lying there. He had grown much thinner in the weeks that had passed and he was covered in bandages and dried blood.

After slipping a hand in Hitsugaya's, Hinamori turned back to Unohana. "What happened to him? What happened to my Shiro-chan?"

Unohana sat down opposite the girl who seemed both fierce and on the verge of tears simultaneously. "He was stabbed." She didn't bother mentioning by whom. She didn't think she had the time for that sort of argument. "I don't know why he's not waking up or why these fits are happening. Actually, Hinamori-fukutaichou, that's why we need you."

Hinamori sat up a bit straighter in response, listening carefully.

"We need you to perform a new, highly experimental diagnosis kidou to try and determine what's wrong with Hitsugaya-Taichou."

She stood up abruptly, dropping the younger captain's hand. "And why should I help you? Why should I help him? You're all just keeping Aizen-Taichou from me! He wouldn't leave me this way, you did something! How do I know he's not in it with you?!"

Unohana leaned forward, almost hating herself for what she knew she had to do. "Don't you think Hitsugaya-Taichou would be the one with those answers? How would you ever know unless he was awake to answer your questions?"

"I want Aizen-Taichou first. Let me see him and I'll help you."

"But what about Toushirou?" Unohana purposefully looked back at the body breathing raggedly on the bed as she spoke, drawing Hinamori's attention to him. "He needs help as soon as possible. Isn't he Shiro-chan, your best friend?"

"I would do anything for him," she whispered, eyes watering. "I've already wronged him so much."

"Then what we do is very simple. I will teach you this kidou and you must use it and then tell me what you see."

"And it will help him?"

"Yes."

Hinamori chewed on her bottom lip, clearly struggling with the decision. Her mind was constantly vacillating, ever changing between betrayal and truth and uncertain as to which reality was real.

Unohana supposed it was only fortunate that both choices favored saving Hitsugaya.

"I'll do it." She whirled around to face Unohana once more. "But then you'll give me my answers _and _Aizen-Taichou, understand?"

Unohana resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but only just. After all, this was important. "Very well, Hinamori-fukutaichou. Then allow me to teach you the kidou."

* * *

Hinamori stood calmly before Hitsugaya's body. She wasn't nervous. She was sweating, but from tension, not nerves. Hinamori Momo did not stress over performing kidou. It had always been her area of expertise and it was no different now. Rather, she worried for the outcome. Would she finally have her answers?

Who was right?

Could she even bear the truth if she did find out?

_Not Aizen-Taichou_, her anguished mind cried.

She stifled the train of thought quickly. She needed all her focus to perform the spell. She began the chant, lifting her hands and twisting her fingers gracefully in the proper motions. It was one of the most complex chants she'd ever learned, but her mouth followed the words impeccably. She felt the reiatsu rise and lift around her, flowing as it hadn't been able to for days. She might have smiled if she hadn't thought it would disrupt her concentration.

Time stretched on immeasurably, but she was used to that, endlessly repeating the necessary words and actions until she reached the final instruction. She shouted the last of it and literally felt the jolt as her mind suddenly thrust forward towards the prone captain.

Her spirit crashed against a blank wall, images flashing so quickly before her eyes she could barely distinguish one from another. Then the pain smashed into her, simultaneously amplifying and diminishing the scenes springing up around her.

_Blood. Blood everywhere and all over his hands. A Toushirou younger than she'd ever seen with crimson up to his elbows and a lifeless neck in his firm grip…_

_Herself, slapping a shocked Toushirou, who collapsed…_

_Her and Toushirou as children…_

_A beautiful kitchen, a look of terror and red splattered all over it…_

The pain shoved back at her, pushing and writhing. It swallowed, enveloping her whole and she was certain she screamed. Over and over as endless needles drove into her skin, pierced her flesh. Her heart broke and time stopped as only agony existed. It rose around her in a swelling crest as she squeezed her eyes tight against it, screaming and screaming.

Until suddenly, it was gone. No more flashes, no more pain.

Hinamori held perfectly still, afraid to move lest it assault her again. A light breeze ruffled her skin and she puzzled over where it had come from. She could have sworn that sunlight was shifting over her closed eyelids, despite her being indoors. Yet she refrained from movement, waiting for anything, keeping her eyes tightly closed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she began opening one eye.

Nothing happened.

She opened both eyes.

And stared.

She had been here precious few times in her life as a konpaku. Actually, she could count the number on one hand. And she could have sworn that she had just been in one of the Fourth Division's rooms. But there was no mistaking her surroundings.

She knew exactly where she was. The part that baffled her was how she had gotten there in the first place.

It was Karakura.


	9. Clash of Worlds

_AN: Hey look! finally! a new chapter! (grins) um... so, when I said somewhere that I'd probably be able to write more when I got to school... yeah, apparently that was a lie. I'm waaaaay busier than I was even over the summer... go figure. i haven't had time to reply to reviews, review /other/ people's updates or even check out the new people that have alerted/faved me or my stories... (whimpers) it's worse on deviantart, if you can believe it. so it makes sense to say I've had very little time to write. and it's going to be worse next month (but hey, what's a month for you guys, right? lol). see, here's the plan. I'm going to participate in NaNoWriMo!! and, erm, write the first book of my original series. coupled with classes, hanging out with friends and ra responsibilites, I don't expect to have much extra time, if any. so, odds are, after this update, there will be none until december (or later, knowing me). Also, I /think/ the high school plot thread will resolve next chapter... unless it decides to get too long (which it might) in which case it'll be two chapters... and then we're at the climax people... how exciting is /that/! (smiles) anyway, enough from me, go enjoy the chapter! and, of course, tell me what you think... (smiles again)

* * *

_

Momo sat fidgeting nervously in a chair just outside the nurse's office. She was scared, terrified even, of both what she was going to do, and what she would do if she succeeded. But she knew that saving Toushirou was more important.

To be quite honest, she didn't truly know what was going on… Only that it had happened before, when both of them were younger. He had showed up at school with mysterious cuts and bruises that he refused to explain. He had gotten very quiet, inexplicably, and tried to avoid almost everybody whenever he could. She had tried so very hard to get close to him, to convince him to explain what was going on so that she could help, only to be continuously rebuffed.

Instead, Toushirou had withdrawn further and further into himself, so much so that it was nearly painful to watch. She had figured out that it had something to do with things going on at home, but he wouldn't let her come over and visit either.

The real turning point had been somewhat long in coming, but essentially culminated in Toushirou showing up unannounced on her doorstep and dripping in blood. He asked if he could hide for a few days (thereby ridding Momo of the constant worry she'd been indulging) in exchange for no questions asked.

The way Momo had seen it, she'd had two options. One, she could demand answers and potentially send Toushirou back into the situation that had brought him pain or two, she could do what he asked.

She never had been one to question when it was about saving someone. Sure, she needed to know, but she needed him safe more. So she snuck him into her room (a difficult task with her very perceptive mother) and bandaged him as best she could.

A few days later he'd moved out to a friend's house (someone she hadn't known) until he was old enough to have a job and his own place. The cuts had never returned and she'd kept her word about never asking.

But now, now all bets were off. If this was the same situation, then it was pretty clear he couldn't get out of it by himself. She needed to know what was going on and she needed to know before he knew what she was up to. It would be a little tricky, but no one ever said Momo wasn't up for a challenge.

"Excuse me?" she interrupted the lady in the office. She winced internally at the timidity in the sound. She would have to work on that.

The lady at the desk looked up from her paperwork to stare at Momo.

She was oddly pretty, Momo thought frantically, mind wandering disobediently under the stress.

"May I help you?" The voice was cool and clear, patiently awaiting a response.

"Um, my best friend passed out in class earlier, Toushirou Hitsugaya? I was hoping to take his homework and stuff home for him. Is that all right, do you think?" The nervousness in her voice was appropriate, she hoped, considering she was supposed to be worried about her friend. And she was.

The lady looked at her kindly, sympathy in her eyes. "I think that should be fine, dear. Will you be going home with him then?"

"Well, actually, I was hoping to get there first and set up some things to make him more comfortable. You know, since his parents can't get off work to take care of him." This was a bit of a fib, since she'd never actually met Toushirou's parents. "Only, they just moved recently and I can't remember the address. Do," she licked her lips distractedly, "do you think you could give it to me?"

The lady frowned, obvious sympathy for Momo's plight warring across her face with the rules. "I'm not really supposed to give out students' addresses, sweetie. Maybe you could call his parents?" Her voice turned a bit hopeful at the end.

Hopes beginning to plummet, Momo's thoughts raced desperately for a way to lie convincingly to the kind receptionist. "They're"—Momo's voice dropped to such a low whisper, it was difficult to even hear, especially with the emotion clogging through every word—"they're not allowed to take personal calls at work. They wouldn't be able to get back to me. Please, I know you're not really supposed to, but I'm really worried about him and I'd feel so much better if I could just get his things home for him to make him more comfortable. Someone needs to look out for him and, well, it's always been me." Momo's voice was pleading, adorable brown eyes latching firmly and tearily to the blue eyes of the receptionist.

The lady puckered her lips, disappointed at the apparent lack of a solution. "Oh, I don't know," she said, uncomfortably looking back at Momo. "I'd love to help you, sweetie, but I just don't think—" She cut herself off at the dejected expression on Momo's face. "Look, there's really no one you can ask?"

Momo shook her head, looking positively miserable.

Glancing around quickly to insure that no one was nearby, the lady leaned forward slightly. "All right, just this once, okay? What's your name, dear?"

"Momo." Momo brightened up considerably. "Momo Hinamori."

She scribbled the name on a note before turning to a nearby filing cabinet. "And you were looking for Hitsugaya's address?"

"Yes, yes, please. Thank you so much!"

The lady quickly flipped through the various folders before reaching the one she was looking for. Snatching a post-it note off of her desk, she hastily wrote down the address and handed it to Momo.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" Without even really thinking it through, Momo raced off down the hallway, jubilant triumph bringing an unexpected spring to her step.

_She had done it!_

Now all she had to do was get there and figure out what the heck was going on.

* * *

Looking around, Hinamori rather quickly determined that even though she was absolutely certain she was in Karakura, she actually had no idea _where _in Karakura she was. After all, it tended to be a rather large city and she wasn't that familiar with it.

What was she doing here?

Her heartbeat quickened in unexpected anticipation. Was Aizen here?

Had he somehow interrupted the kidou and brought her here?

She hoped fervently that that was the case.

She scowled at her reflection in a passing window. No, she didn't. She never wanted to see that stupid konpaku's face again.

_But what if he _wasn't _a traitor? _her mind whispered delectably.

"Shut up, I'm trying to save Toushirou-kun, here," she muttered to her disobedient mind.

Actually, that made an odd kind of sense. If he was here, then maybe she was supposed to save him? Though how she was supposed to save him and from what, she had no idea. Even more distracting, how would she find him?

She continued walking, moving into a neighborhood district now. Large houses graced either side of the lane, made of all sorts of materials and all of them with beautiful gardens. Hinamori didn't look at any of them, staring at the concrete sidewalk instead. There was simply too much to look at and she really couldn't stand it. After all the weeks of white, all the bright colors blinded her. They swirled and swirled in front of her eyes until she couldn't discern up from down and she had to squeeze her eyes shut to block them out.

She kept walking.

* * *

When Hitsugaya woke next, everything was a bit fuzzier than he remembered. He had trouble remembering anything that had happened prior to the apparent nap he'd spontaneously taken. He opened his eyes carefully, prepared for the dizziness that would have knocked him over had he even been sitting up. His vision swam dangerously as the nausea had him gagging. Voices murmured, rising and falling in the background, but he couldn't quite make them out yet. Someone moved him onto his side which caused pain to shoot up his side and stars to explode in front of his eyes. He threw up over the side of the bed as a coolly feminine voice whispered into his ear, "It's all right to close your eyes. It helps block out the dizziness."

He ignored it, knowing better from long experience that it only increased the loss of equilibrium.

It took several minutes for his vision to settle down enough that he could make out the room. It was mostly white, though the walls were plastered with mini-posters explaining the consequences of smoking and possible STDs. He was in the nurse's office?

His mind shut down as the implications of that statement flooded over him.

The scene replayed itself over in his mind, Hinamori slapping him and his ignominious fall.

That innate sense of dread that always warned him when something terrible was about to happen was already trickling dangerously down his spine. What had she deduced in these instants he'd been unconscious?

Speaking of which, how long _had _he been unconscious? He had a feeling that that particular number would be terribly critical for the progress of the next few hours. He was sure his skin must be icy cold with fear by now, except that he had trouble feeling anything through the haze of pain and anxiety.

"What time is it?" he croaked into the void, as he realized that there were people in the office that were staring at him.

There was a frozen moment of absolute stillness amongst the four of five people standing there before they all simultaneously burst into flurried movements, many beginning to talk at once.

"Toushirou-san, are you all right?"

"Hitsugaya-kun—"

"What happened?"

"Toushirou-kun—"

Hitsugaya groaned, letting his eyelids shut once more. It took far too much effort to keep them open to waste it on those idiots.

"Be quiet!" Unohana shouted authoritatively.

Silently, Hitsugaya thanked the school nurse for the abrupt halt of voices. "Toushirou-san, how are you?"

Slowly, he allowed his eyes to open again, peering at the speaker. "Please," he croaked out. "How long have I been unconscious?"

She was staring at him, eyes communicating her confusion at his high value on the question. "It's been about twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Why?"

Hitsugaya could feel twin rivers of icy cold flooding his spine and for a moment, he was too lost in the sensation to think. Two different sources of bitter frost, one making it difficult to breathe through the panic and the other feeling so terribly, terribly familiar yet distant. Despite it's confusingly paradoxical nature, it also made feel stronger, rushing along his veins as if new muscle, new strength.

Determination settled into his very blood stream and slowly, slowly, he sat up.

"Where is Hinamori?"

* * *

The house was white, which seemed fairly strange to Momo. Toushirou-kun needed more color than that, given that his hair was also so white. Also, his hair color tended to cause him _not _to choose something white if he had the option. She wondered why he had moved from his perfectly good apartment to this _stark _house. Shaking her shoulders, she knew it must be related to the strange events driving him away from her. She steeled her posture in determination and strode forward down the carefully swept driveway. The yard had no garden, but the grass was immaculately mowed and edged to fit the curving sidewalk.

Instead of approaching the front door, potentially dangerous, Momo decided to circle around the back and see what she could uncover. Most of all, she knew she didn't want to get caught. Though she really didn't know who would catch her, she was pretty sure nothing good could come of it, considering she was sneaking around a neighborhood she didn't live in. The backyard was huge, covered in the same perfectly green grass as the front lawn. There was a pristine white shed in the far left corner and an entirely separate garage to the right. She slipped onto the porch, tiptoeing carefully towards the back door.

Other than the eerily perfect organization of everything, there was nothing particularly intimidating about the house. No hints, no clues as to the _why _of Toushirou's strange behavior.

She would have to go inside the house. Momo hesitated, unwilling to break the law to enter another person's home. Still, she needed to know the truth so that she could help her best friend. She crept closer to the back door, feet creaking slightly on the wooden slats. The windows in the back door were dark, probably an effect of the bright sunshine glaring on the glass. Her palms perspired and her hands shook slightly as she got closer and closer.

_Only a couple more feet_, she thought desperately.

She could almost see inside. She quelled the sudden urge to turn and bolt, determinedly moving forward.

Right as her hand moved to grasp the doorknob, the door itself cracked open, a thin white hand snatching Momo's wrist and dragging the girl quickly into the house before slamming the door shut on the perfect afternoon.

* * *

Hinamori was still idly wandering sidewalks through the overly nice neighborhood. She still had yet to see a single soul, but that might have been because she still kept her gaze glued to the cement sidewalk at all times.

She was quite certain it was more dangerous this way (not to mention more likely that she would miss something important), but what did that matter to a konpaku? Especially to a shinigami fukutaichou?

And so she was still staring at the ground when she heard someone call out her name.

"Hinamori? Is that you?" The voice was shocked, incredulous even. But, more than that, it sounded familiar.

She jerked her head up in an automatic reflex, eyes seeking out the face to match the voice. Straight ahead, at the end of the block, stood Toushirou, albeit an injured one, green eyes wide and staring.

She noted without particularly paying attention that his wounds were all wrong. He hadn't had any back wounds when she had seen him on the bed, yet he did now. Actually, none of them seemed to match up. She frowned slightly and approached him slowly.

Strange.

He wasn't in any gigai.

So why was he human?


End file.
